#but going through his public instagram and are we sure they said they’re getting married like it wasnt sarcastic or anything??

[deanthots]

He was at his wedding??????

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

I have an ideaaa so maybe you like to write about it. Imagine harry having a long term girlfriend or even wife but they are so private and harry protects her so much that nobody in the general public really knows anything about her or their relationship and the fans eat up every single information or content they can get about her and their relationship.

Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh Mysterious Girl.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - this is my first time doing an instagram concept of sorts and i wanted to make it easy on myself and use manips of harry with someone who i chose queen selena, please don’t be harsh on me and enjoy. 🫶

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2013.

liked by username, username and 413 others

harryupdates, Harry spotted going on a park walk with a mystery girl in London today!

tagged, harrystyles

view all comments,

username, who is she?

username, sorry but no

username, she’s actually so pretty!!

username, right?

username, his little beany 👉👈

username, they legit look like they could be siblings

username, they look so beautiful together

username, what part of London is this?

username, it was Hyde park!

username, if they’re dating then they make such a hot couple

username, PAPA

username, her names (Y/N) I’m not sure how old she is or what her job is but she’s from London

username, (Y/N) is such a cute name!

2015.

liked by username, username and 673 others

harryupdates, Harry and (Y/N) spotted at Louis’s mums wedding today!!

tagged, harrystyles, yourinstagram

view all comments

username, power couple right there!!

username, they attended her wedding together?

username, I mean they are dating so it would explain things 🤷‍♀️

username, it’s never been confirmed that they’re dating

username, his outfit is making me feel so many different thoughts

username, I don’t get what the hype of them is, she’s not even that pretty

username, don’t be so rude!

username, just because your jealous doesn’t mean that he can’t be happy

username, we better get the photo that she took on her phone

username, her Instagram accounts private so I highly doubt we will

username, I actually love them

username, she’s so gorgeous for literally no reason

username, imagine they got married as well

username, my life would officially end

username, if they got married they wouldn’t last, she’s probably a gold digger or something

liked by username, username and 1,381 others

harryupdates, Harry and (Y/N) arriving at the last ever one direction performance today!

tagged, harrystyles, yourinstagram

view all comments

username, we love a supportive gf

username, her smile is actually adorable

username, I spoke to her when they were arriving and she was actually one of the nicest people I’d ever spoken to

username, what did you say to her?! we need details!!

username, I said that her and Harry make a really cute couple and she said thank you and we have each other a hug

username, I need to meet both of them one day!

username, I can’t believe it’s the last show already

username, there outfits are actually so pretty!

username, I love the fact that we haven’t seen them together in almost five months and they just suddenly app at together out of no where

username, every time I see a notification that you’ve posted I hope that it’s something ti do with them

username, sometimes I just Google both there names and scroll through pictures of them

username, I don’t get why they get so much hate, I love them together !!

2017.

liked by username, username and 4,319 others

harryandynupdates, A photo montage of (Y/N) supporting Harry at the Dunkirk Premiere.

tagged, harrystyles, yourinstagram

view all comments

username, her red dress is so cute !!

username, her head resting on his shoulder is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life

username, it’s officially confirmed that they’re dating

username, they look so in love

username, if they ever broke up I don’t think I’d be able to live

username, the kiss on the lips is making me feel a multitude of different things

username, I’m having heart palpitations over here

username, can they adopt me?

username, CONTENT CONTENT CONTENT

yourinstagram, thank you so much for creating this, I’m putting this as my lock screen as we speak. ❤️

username, (Y/N)!

username, the queen has spoken!

username, she commented, I repeat she commented !

username, she basically confirmed that they were dating

username, it’s been confirmed for ages we just never wanted to believe it.

liked by yourinstagram, jeffazof and 542,108 others

annetwist, Merry Christmas from my family to yours!🎄🎅

view all comments

username, I want to be part of there family Christmas so badly

username, seeing photos of (Y/N) actually make me so happy!

username, she’s so pretty for literally no reason

yourinstagram, thank you so much lovelies, it means a lot ❤️

username, I want there roast dinner

username, (Y/N) CONTENT (Y/N) CONTENT

username, isn’t Harry pescatarian?

username, doesn’t mean that the others can’t have turkey?

username, all the stockings on the fire place 🥹🥹

gemmastyles, one of the best Christmases ever! x

username, gem!

username, the better styles right there!

username, (Y/N) and Harry are legit couple goals

username, you and Gemma are mother and daughter goals

yourinstagram, one of the best Christmases I’ve ever had, thank you for having me. ❤️❤️

username, she’s so cute, I love it!

annetwist, it was my pleasure, darling. x

username, she’s part of the family, omds I’m sobbing 😭

username, the photo of (Y/N) and Harry in the snow!

username, CONTENT, MAMA YOUR FEEDING US

username, (Y/N)s officially part of the annual Christmas photo

username, she’s winning at life right now

username, (Y/N) OUR QUEEN! 👸 👸

2019.

liked by username, username and 6,310 others

harryupdates, Harry speaking about (Y/N) in his recent interview with Zane Lowe!

“I met my fiancé when we were just eighteen and didn’t officially start dating until I gained the courage to ask her out at a mutual friends party, she’s my best friend and always will be, she’s my biggest inspiration and honestly don’t know what I’d be doing if I hadn’t of met her…I didn’t really think I’d ever be in love, not in this degree anyway. My whole family adore her just as much as me and that’s all I could ever ask for.

she knew what she was getting into when we started dating and that’s what I think made us want to keep our relationship so private, I don’t want her exposed to all the paparazzi knowing the cruel things that they can say, I like to think I’m an open book and seeing how she is with my life styles, and my fans makes me love her even more, which I didn’t think was at all possible.”

tagged, harrystyles

view all comments.

username, FIANCE?

username, you kept that one quiet mister!

username, (Y/N)s not even that pretty, he deserves better

username, literally stfu pls and thx

username, get a life

username, he’s so happy

username, I love that his family love her as well, that makes her even more special!

nicolasgrimshaw, Its' me! I'm the friend!!

username, NICK!

username, LOVE THAT <3

username, nick the match maker

username, his biggest inspiration, sobbing on the floor

username, currently digging my own grave as we speak

username, he deserves to be with someone who can deal with his celebrity status, she’s obviously to weak if he has to say that about her in an interview

username, keyboard warrior

username, if she had an issue with his life she would have left a long time ago

liked by gemmastyles, nicolasgrimshaw and 431,481 others

annetwist, Happy Birthday sweet heart, here’s to 25! 🥂

tagged, yourinstagram

view all comments

username, she calls her sweet heart, I'm sobbing!

username, hey Anne, I was wondering if you could adopt me, <3

username, don't ask me why this made me so emotional its literally just a picture

username, her smile 😭😭

username, shes legit so pretty for real 💗

username, we finally found out her age!

username, was she smiling at harry when this photo was being taken?

yourinstgram, ❤️️❤️️❤️️

username, QUEEN!

username, this so so sweet!

username, this family is actually so sweet

username, Sorry everyone I'm new and don't know who she is can someone tell me?

username, she's Harry's fiancé, her names (Y/N)

username, thank you !

username, sorry Anne she's not your sweetheart, she's our sweetheart!

username, she still exists?

username, she always has and always will

gemmastyles, 👑

username, my heart hearts please this is too much

username, YN CONTENT MY LIFE IS NOW A HAPPY ONE

username, that's literally my reaction every time I see a new picture of her

2020.

liked by username, username and 8,917 others

harryupdates, LEAKED PHOTOS OF (Y/N) AND HARRY. SOMEONE HACKED ANNE'S ICLOUD AGAIN!

tagged, harrystyles, yourinstagram

view all comments.

username, no wtf?

username, who hacked Anne tf?

username, these photos are cute and all but i think the family would really appreciate if you didn't repost them everywhere

username, as much as I hate the fact anne got hacked, these photos are actually adorable

username, the fifth photo

username, they're so in love it actually hurts my chest���️

username, delete these right now!

username, unfollow!

username, the photo of them laying in the grass

username, knowing she was with him the day that photoshoot took place is actually so freakin cute!

username, this is the one time i'm not happy i got a picture of (Y/N)

username, who hacked anne like get a fucking life

username, (Y/N) content has never made me feel so sad

username, in the fourth photo, you can see Anne just wanted a photo with her son but she just had to photo bomb it.

username, the smile on Anne's face tells me she doesn't care.

username, this is actually sickening

username, as much as I hate what's happened and the fact there privacy's been exposed, this drama is eating me up

username, take these down right now

2023.

liked by username, username and 4,194 others

harryandynupdates, (Y/N) was spotted in the crowd at Harry's Cardiff Show today supporting him!

tagged, yourinstagram

view all comments.

username, I LOVE HOW SUPPORTIVE SHE IS

username, she's so happy to be there omds

username, having major fomo over here

username, I knew she was at all his other shows but no one ever got a photo, so thank you to whoever for blessing us with this <3

username, it was me, I was with my sister and she recognised her straight away, she was in the private pit with Jeff and Glenne.

username, I need to party with her so bad

username, like legit it's on my bucket list

username, god blessed us with her

username, she seems so care free like it's actually adorable

username, the man on the left of the photo looks like gino d'acampo

username, I CAN SEE IT!

username, YOUR ACTUALLY RIGHT!!

username, she's his biggest supporter

username, she's just like me!

username, she's his biggest hype women!

username, why is she pulling that face?

username, I've never been more in love with her like wtaf?

username, making me cry seeing how happy and carefree she is being

username, seeing her so happy makes me so happy

liked by username, username and 9,104 others

harryupdates, "I CAME HERE HOPING THAT I WOULD SEE (Y/N) BUT I GOT YOU INSTEAD!" Harry reading a sign at the concert tonight and answering with:

"You came here to see my wife? Hate to break it to you sista but she's not here tonight, she's got a stomach bug and was crushed when the medic told her not to leave the bed, so sorry but you'll have to put up with me instead!"

tagged, harrystyles

view all comments.

username, WIFE?!

username, nah he got married?

username, IM ACTUALLY SOBBING LIKE WTF?!

username, I KNEW THEY WERE ENGAGED AND ALL BUT WHEN THE FUCK DID THEY GET MARRIED?!

username, now they can finally adopt me?

username, this content of him and (Y/N) was not something I thought I'd be seeing in 2023.

username, I'm actually so happy for them right now

username, Harry deserves to be happy, and (Y/N) is the perfect person for him

username, literally no one likes her its probably a publicity stunt

username, a publicity stunt that's lasted ten years?!

username, CONGRATS

username, she's in it all for the money

username, CONTENT I REPEAT CONTENT

username, how long do you think they've been married for?

username, I'm thinking some time between Christmas and when tour started up again

username, is this just another way for him to make money?

username, he has a wife?

username, the next thing for him to achieve is becoming a dilf

username, the world would officially end when that happens

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[evansblues]

I think media just overreacted (or maybe I just live in a delululand), but:

1) rumours about wedding were all over the Internet: Tumblr, Twitter, Instagram, Reddit, LSA;

2) also there were a lot of rumours that it will be this fall;

3) his friends were spotted in Boston;

4) and I think the last drop was RDJ, Jeremy and Chris Hemsworth in Boston.

Probably media thought that: 1) Chris has never been married before and said how he want a family; 2) he is in relationship with AB; 3) people all over the Internet speculating about wedding; 4) and avengers were spotted in Boston - so they couldn’t think of any other reason and rushed to publish articles for a big news.

BUT!

1) AB has never been spotted wearing a ring; 2) Where’a Anthony, Scarlet, Sebastian, Ana de Armas maybe? Mark Ruffalo, Ryan Reynolds and so on and so on… I would never believe that Anthony and Sebastian would miss his wedding; 3) As I believe not all Chris friends were in Boston; 4) Where’s Chris family? Where’s Lisa?

And about People article. I don’t think People own Chris anything and reverse. I also don’t think that every article from People should go through Chris’ publicist. It’s a celebrity media. They just post news and that’s it.

I think People rushed to publish their article, because there were already some of them on the Internet from other media + remember sighting of Avengers.

And a little side note: People never had confirmation about CE and AB relationship. They published article with a note that they reached out for comments to CE and AB representatives, but Chris himself confirmed relationship by publishing pictures and videos on Instagram.

We have to wait and see.

So what I think happened with the news is that once one publication broke it everyone else had to publish something because clicks are money and they’re all competitors. Nobody has a source, no confirmation, no photos. That means it was a targeted leak. The question I have is who leaked it and if it was a sneaky leak cleverly inserted at the right moment or if it was orchestrated and agreed upon, which seems less likely. I’ll read on it later this week. I still want to see what else comes out.

What’s very clever is that there was something going on this weekend, I’m not sure if it was a wedding. Either way, what a great way to get a whole lot of publicity. If it turns out to be false, even more publicity! If it’s true, more publicity! Imagine if the photos we get aren’t wedding photos but something else. Like a Patriots event, or a little girl’s birthday party. I don’t rely on traffic so I have time to sit and wait to see how this unfolds.

[isagisyoichi]

PINKY STAR (RUN) :｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

SYNOPSIS: isagi as your boyfriend

CHARACTERS INCLUDED: isagi yoichi my boyfriend of many several years

WARNINGS: swearing? i think idk i forget also yah pretend they all go to the same school and stuff. also horribly self indulgent if u couldn't already tell

A/N: if you remember my old one delete it from your memory it was literally so bad help anyways the re-up because my boyfriend deserves better. also i really like this one and i feel like it’s more in character for him :P lol i've had this in my drafts for like, ever <3 but also my last post for a while because i have ap exams and my sat soon :P

FOR: the anon that asked me where my original isagi bf hcs went :’)

after the initial awkwardness of being in a new relationship fades and you two become comfortable with each other, a relationship with isagi would be like dating your slightly awkward best friend who you make out with sometimes.

like, i don’t really see isagi being high maintenance, so i feel like a relationship with him would definitely be on the relaxed side, but still romantic, you know?

isagi’s inner monologue is so funny and he definitely lets his thoughts out to you. it makes you laugh to see your usually friendly-to-all boyfriend have his moments, too.

you guys are one of those couples that give each other a look when someone’s doing something weird in public #telepathicconnection <3

but, isagi’s really such a sweetie with you. i know user isagisyoichi may be slightly biased when they say this, but believe me when i say that isagi’s 100% boyfriend material.

walks you to class whenever he can. always either holding your hand as he listens attentively to you complaining about school.

writes down things he feels are important about you in a digital note entitled “y/n 💗,” so he can remember them in the future.

isagi's used to talking to all kinds of people, so even if you're not the most talkative, he can adjust with no problem.

and he’ll always entertain you about whatever stupid conversation you wanna have.

kinda basic with pet names. babe, baby, dork (he would, i don’t wanna hear it), are his usual rotation.

randomly compliments you/says these really romantic things out of nowhere because he can’t control himself and often blurts things out.

“yeah, of course, when we get married, i’ll-”

“when we get married?” you inquire as you cut isagi off. you two have never discussed marriage, just but the thought of isagi wanting to spend the rest of his life with you is enough to make your head spin.

isagi’s eyes go wide when he realizes what he’s said. damn his mouth that moves faster than his mind.

swallowing hard and taking a breath, isagi says, “y-yeah, when we get married,” further affirming his statement with a nod, albeit a bit of a nervous one.

now both of you guys are flustered LOL.

likes to sit his head in your lap and have you play with his hair, while you two talk or just sit in silence.

such a good listener, perfect person to rant about anything with. he’s very understanding, he’ll hold you if you need him to, wipe your tears if you’re crying, give you advice if you need it, just overall so sweet.

also always knows when you're sad because of his intuition. isagi encourages you to open up to him, but ultimately doesn’t force you, just lets you know that he’s always there for you <3

(that's kind of lie because isagi does pry a little LOL, but he means well)

takes care of you! nags you a little, tries his best to make sure you're not doing anything stupid, and if you are, that someone responsible (him) is watching you, looks after you when you’re sick, etc.

gives you his jacket when you’re cold (he’s been waiting to do that his whole life bro LMAOO), carries your things, always texts you good morning and good night, just overall sooo good to you.

but as soft as he is for you, isagi does have this tendency to get these random spouts of confidence, so sometimes he’ll say or do something really bold out of nowhere.

like, he’ll suddenly grab your waist and pull you closer to him, or he’ll kiss you out of the blue. the flustered expression that rests on your face for a change always makes him smirk *heart eyes*

in general, though, isagi's still kind of awkward sometimes regardless and does say or do things that make you go "???" and make him be like "why did i do that" LOL he's so cute though <333

he’s pretty basic with dates, usually opts for things like restaurants, walks in the parks, movie nights, or stuff like that, but they’re still really fun!

but, if you ever want to do something out of the norm, he wouldn't be opposed to it, either. but, you do have to tell him ‘cause he's not a mind reader lol.

(okay but, one time, isagi tried to watch a scary movie with you because he wanted to do that thing where he wraps his arm around you during the scary parts, but HE ended up being scared instead 😭)

isagi’s the type to put your name with a heart emoji or the date you guys started dating in his instagram bio LOL

y/n 💓 IHS Forward #10 ⚽️ *insert some soccer quote about grinding*

it’s a bit middle school, but you let it slide because you know he just wants to show you off <3

study sessions are normal between you two but, you guys always get bored or distracted halfway through and start watching youtube or something LOL.

it’s canon he’s a thigh man lol, so if he ever sees you wearing an oversized shirt, especially one of his, with shorts, isagi will literally short circuit in real life.

he keeps his hand on your thigh when you guys cuddle that day, tracing patterns on your skin, or just squeezing it every now and then.

in general, though, isagi likes poking at and playing with them whenever they're out <3

once, isagi wanted you to do that trend on tiktok where he sits between your thighs and stuff, but he had no idea how to bring it up LOL

so, isagi just watched tiktoks of it in front of you and hoped eventually you would get the hint 🙄

and you did, thanks to his incredible lack of subtly. he doesn’t even care when you giggle and tell him how bad he is at being slick, isagi got your thighs around him, he won!!!!!!

takes a picture (or two or three) to savor the moment.

(even though he could literally just ask you to do it again in the future, but whatever, i guess)

when you’re dating isagi, the team comes with him too LOL

they’re always snapchatting you pictures of isagi when they’re hanging out without you, with stupid captions like, “look how sad your boyfriend is without you 😞”

isagi’s not even sad in the picture, he’s just confused as to why they’re shoving a camera in his face 😭

isagi one hundred percent attempts to get you to run the mile with him during gym if you don’t already.

“babe, just try!” isagi pants, as he catches up to you and your friends, as you guys are still on your second lap.

admittedly, the effort is cute, but beloved, i hate to break it to you- i will not be doing anything of the sort.

he will sit down or walk around with you after you finish the mile, though. if he’s not already playing soccer lollll.

when he does choose to go with you, expect exclamations from the team about how isagi “abandoned us for his little relationship” 👎

isagi’s receiving love language is words of affirmation (also basically canon LOL) so, he really values the compliments you give him with his whole heart.

you could tell him how his hair looks nice in the morning, and isagi will think about it all day.

whether it be about how cute he is, or how talented of a player he is, isagi really is happiest when you praise him <3

speaking of soccer, isagi has this tendency to get lost in the moment and talk your head off about some soccer related tangent that probably makes no sense to you.

his eyes light up and his voice is just oozing with passion for what he does as he goes into detail about how he made this crazy goal at practice while you stare at him with the biggest heart eyes ever, adoring his dedication.

and of course when isagi realizes he was rambling, he apologizes profusely for “boring” you, like the gentleman he is.

but when you reassure him that he could never bore you and that you want nothing more than for him to go on, isagi begins to feels lightheaded due to his adoration for you <3

if you're the type to go all out when it supporting isagi at soccer- like make one of those corny signs, yell from the crowd, wear his spare jersey to games, isagi will physically have to withhold his heart from jumping out his chest.

he's a little embarrassed that you're doing all that for him, but the effort means soooo much to him.

and speaking of soccer, it would mean a lot to isagi if you not only supported him at games and stuff, but expressed an interest in learning more about soccer as a whole, too.

you know, learn a little more about the game on your own accord, ask him to teach you how to properly play, or even challenge him to a one on one, do stuff like that, and he’ll literally be head over heels for you. well, more than he already is.

(he always goes easy on you on your guys 1v1's and he thinks your efforts are adorable, no matter how much you may or may not suck)

he'd repay the effort and try to get interested in whatever your hobbies are!

also, you can get him to do almost anything if you pout and beg hard enough, you’re literally so hard to say no to in isagi’s eyes <3

isagi’s the type to not realize when other people are flirting with him LOL

he just thinks they’re being nice (unless they’re being straight up) and i don’t think he would really process it because he’s so focused on you romantically, if that makes sense.

once he realizes you’re jealous, isagi apologizes earnestly, reassuring you over and over again that you're everything he could ask for and that he would never intentionally try to hurt you and all that jazz.

although, i will admit, sometimes isagi’s kinda smug when you're jealous, especially when it’s over a dumb reason 👎

however, when he’s jealous i feel like it could go one of two ways-

on normal days, isagi would just stand there to “intimidate” the other person, maybe cough a little for emphasis until they go away lol.

but on days where he’s already mad/filled with adrenaline/or someone’s really not taking a hint and you’re visibly uncomfortable- oh boy, it’s like a switch flips in him.

has those same fiery eyes he has during the climax of a game. the energy he’s exuding is dead serious, and that alone is enough for the person bothering you to go away. not bad for a man that’s only 5’8 🥰

adding on, isagi doesn’t take any shit about you, ever. even if it’s from his friends. usually isagi’s very neutral and doesn’t actively try to start conflict, but there are some things he’ll always defend and you’re one of them.

isagi always listens/watches/reads/etc whatever you recommend him (on that note, please recommend him good anime because isagi’s out here willingly telling people his favorite anime is darling in the franxx), even if he doesn’t necessarily like it LOL

you could show isagi objectively, the worst song ever and he would be like “yeah, it was good babe!” (it was not)

also does the same thing when you bring him shopping with you, like he's absolutely NO HELP 😭

you could try on the ugliest sweater known to man and he’d like “you look nice 🙂” pls be honest isagi, you can say it’s hideous!!!!!!

but isagi’s also being somewhat truthful in his statement because he does genuinely think you look nice in everything <3

also loves when you wear his clothes- always feels a mixture between pride and slight shyness?

kinda lol idk but overall, isagi really is sooo happy you wanna show him off that much, especially when you're wearing something of his around his friends :')

he says “i love you” first, no doubt.

he’s a bit nervous when he does because he doesn’t know if you’ll reciprocate, but he really does love you and he feels like he physically can’t hold it in anymore.

“i promise you don’t have to say it back!” isagi reassures anxiously. “i know it’s a really big commitment, and if it’s too early for you right now-”

“i love you, too.”

[donutloverxo]

A Royal scandal 4

Modern royalty au

Image from Instagram

cowritten with @lizzygal​

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the  ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia, talks of virginity.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7.8k

Story masterlist

Valkyrie, or simply Val, watched the entire thing unfold before her eyes and was helpless to stop any of it. All of it. All she could do was watch. Much like one would watch a train accident happen before their very eyes.

She had tried. In truth she had.

However, Sarah was the Queen Mother and Val was a member of the Royal Guard.

There was little she could do.

“Your Majesty,” she purred one last time, in one last attempt to save a situation that she knew deep in her heart was not going to go well at all. “Perhaps you would prefer to go inside and I’ll bring them into the reception area?”

Everything was wrong. So very wrong.

Outside the palace was normally empty.

As it was located in the center of the capital. An old historic building from imperial days that covered numerous city blocks, was where the government was run and where King Steven resided. Press knew better than to hang around outside the imposing palace gates as the king never left out them and was uninterested in opportunities to have his picture taken. As did the Queen Mother.

And yet, that morning, a whole gaggle of photographers were lined up and waiting for the visiting royals. Or so they had shared with Val.

Her Grace, Hope van Dyne, never went anywhere without getting her picture taken. In Val’s opinion, she probably had the phone number to every tabloid office in the world.

Sarah’s voice was kind. Soft. Gentle. It made Val want to wrap her queen up in a blanket and make her go inside so she could deal with their unwelcome guests. She stood beside Val at the top of the steps of the palace, provided with a great view of the black sedan that had pulled in through the gates. The flashiest possible way to enter the palace instead of through the underground garage like everyone else.

“Oh no. That’s hardly necessary. They wanted a scene. Let us give them one.”

Not liking the sounds of that at all, her brown eyes flickered over to look at the slim woman with a head of artfully styled strawberry blonde curls, a button nose and rose petal lips. She was every bit as regal as her title, even if she had not a drop of royal blood in her body.

“You can’t think that they actually called the press to say that the Duchess Hope was the woman with His Majesty on the video from the royal banya?”

Sarah’s cool blue gaze flickered to her royal bodyguard before returning back to the sedan so she could observe her former friend climb out, followed by her raven-haired daughter who waved to the photographers on the other side of the iron gates.

That was exactly what Sarah suspected the second she’d seen it in the morning paper. Though she doubted she would ever find out who had started that rumor.

“Have you found out why they’re here?”

Grimacing, Valkyrie shook her head, unhappy to not have an answer for her queen beneath the cloudy chilly winter day. “Not yet Your Majesty. We have reached out to the Maharaja’s Staff and are waiting to hear back. Soon though we suspect.”

Any second now Val hoped her phone would ring so she could tell the queen.

Which led to Sarah turning her head to look away from her guests as they climbed the stairs. She looked away from the large fountain that the sleek luxury car was parked beside and gave her last true smile for what she suspected would be till lunch. Reaching out, she placed her hand on Valkyrie’s wrist. One of her preferred bodyguards. She’d been loyal and had on two occasions nearly given her life in service of her country. “I trust you will find out and inform me as soon as possible. Do not fret. I doubt they will be leaving anytime in the near future.”

Only a lifetime of service kept Val from cracking a smile.

Instead, her dark eyes watched the silver haired Queen of the Netherlands climb the steps towards them. Smiling. Dressed expensively with a heavy coat made from numerous small furry animals.

Queen Janet van Dyne approached as if it hadn’t been years. She came to stand beside Sarah and greet her in such a way that would make for a perfect picture. Or so Sarah noticed. She greeted her as if they were still friends who spoke frequently on the phone and still sent one another gifts. As if their children had married and everything was fine.

“Sarah! How wonderful to see you, you have not aged a day.”

Janet reached out with gloved hands trimmed in mink, leaned forward to place a polite kiss on Sarah’s cheek in greeting and was more than a little surprised when Sarah stepped away. Her own hands remaining clasped in front of her and out of Janet’s. Greeting or otherwise.

“Janet,” was all that came from Sarah’s mouth. A look went from Janet’s coat down to her dress and then shoes, pausing there before coming back up. “Is that the dress you wore to Lizzie’s grandson’s wedding?”

Surprised by the greeting, or lack thereof, Janet paused and then smiled brightly, knowing that though the cameras could not hear them they could capture this image on film. “Yes. We’re focusing on becoming sustainable out in the west. Going green isn’t merely a project meant as royal busywork.”

Sarah could actually feel Valkyrie stiffen beside her at mention of the Green Initiative that Steve had tasked her with and had been far from busywork. It was something that Sarah could go on and on about, one of her many efforts that she busied herself with and yet, she found she didn’t want to expend that much energy on her once friend.

Hands still in front of her, fingers laced together where she could feel her wedding band. Sarah tilted her head slightly to the side. “I wouldn’t know. We remain a governing monarchy here.”

Janet blanched. Her lips formed a straight line, nearly as straight as the way her spine stiffened.

Though Sarah was unable to enjoy it as she turned her attention to the daughter. Hope van Dyne. Formerly Princess Hope but now Duchess Hope, after having been stripped of her title and recently reinstated to a lesser one, in Sarah’s opinion anyway.

Hope looked lovely as ever.

Tanned. Dressed exceptionally well. Smiling exuberantly.

It almost warmed Sarah’s icy heart.

“Sarah! How are you? You look wonderful!” Exclaimed Hope, sounding genuinely thrilled to see the woman who might have been her mother-in-law had things gone differently. She stepped on up with outstretched arms and was greeted with a serene face that looked at her in confusion.

Sarah said nothing. Not a word. Sarah maintained eye contact and looked at Hope as if waiting for the younger woman to say or do something.

Thus leading to Hope blinking in confusion and lowering her arms, looking to her mother for assistance as this clearly was not the welcome she expected.

“Is something wrong,” Hope asked a bit nervously as a winter breeze ruffled the fur on her mother’s coat. Sneaking under the cashmere of her own, as she hadn’t had time to properly shop for winter here. This was her mother’s idea. It was her last hope. Her father had refused to hear her and not even her mother could plead her case this time. This was it.

“I was about to ask you the same.”

Val watched Hope’s confusion and fought hard to not say anything at all, and it was becoming painful to watch in her opinion. Her gaze veered over to all the photographers that were watching more than taking pictures. Even they seemed to realize this visit was not starting off smoothly.

“I’m-I’m sorry?”

Val risked a look over at her queen. Her queen who was peering at the young woman who had referred to Val’s people as ‘war criminals’ or ‘superstitious backwoods fools.’

Unable to take another moment of it, Valkyrie cleared her throat.

Finally making Sarah take mercy on Hope who really should have known better in her opinion. “In civilized societies, a duchess would curtsey to a queen. Perhaps things are different for those who are merely ceremonial in purpose.”

***

Someone called your name and for a second, you were terrified that Wanda had come for your ass.

Not that you could blame the best friend you’d had since high school.

Upon heading into the offices of the royal palace that morning, you had intentionally avoided her , secure in the knowledge that she was pissed at you and you really did not want to have the fight you knew was coming someplace public like the office.

So, you’d been groveling via text and promising to go out with her that night for a girls night, swearing on your honor that you would tell her everything! Because Wanda was no fool.

Wanda saw the new dress you had on. Wanda saw your new shoes. Wanda noticed your perfect makeup and styled hair. Wanda also brought up the facts that you’d not been home that night or early morning, as well as the crucial one regarding your flatiron that was still in the bathroom the two of you shared.

Needless to say, you had a lot of explaining to do.

There was no getting around it. You were going to have to tell her about Steve. Sure, you’d swear her to secrecy until everything came out. The palace had made its announcement this morning about King Steven being in a relationship that he would make public soon. A second public statement had come from the Palace PR Guru, Maria Hill, stating that without a doubt, the king was not involved with Duchess Hope after a few rumors had burnt their way through the palace and news cycles.

Besides, Wanda should know. Wanda deserved to know. You and Wanda had come on this adventure post university together. Wanda had to know before it came out in the form of an official palace announcement, or else Wanda might very well skin you alive.

Hearing your name on a female tongue had you snapping up, your attention diverted away from the emails you were checking.

Wanda?

No.

It was not Wanda.

It was an Indian woman in a well-tailored pantsuit. Her dark hair was swept up in a chignon. Her lips a shade of red that had you lowkey thinking about asking for the name and shade of said lipstick. Her dark eyes bore right through you. As if spearing you from your chair and to the wall of your office.

“You are the King��s Chief of Staff?”

While your natural first instinct was to report that was what it said on your door. Professional-you put the kibosh on that right away. Inner you was somewhat intimidated by this powerful woman who looked as if she knew your every last secret.

Head held high this woman so informed you in a tone that let you know she was here for nothing less. “The Maharaja has sent us. Duchess Hope of the Netherlands has stolen from us and is here with the intention of pleading political asylum. While the Maharaja would like nothing more than to have her brought back for trial of the theft of our priceless treasures. I will settle for what was taken and no less.”

Ok. Well. Maybe you thought too soon.

Maybe Wanda was preferrable over this person.

“Oh…goody…” came from your lips with a frown.

“General Odinson sent me here. He told me that you would be able to help resolve this issue for me post haste.”

Oh of course General Fucking Thor Odinson would send this person your way so he didn’t have to deal with this international nightmare of an incident.

Letting out a deep breath, you held up a finger. “Let me just send this out real quick…what’s your name?” And you typed as quickly as humanly possible on your encrypted laptop.

“Ekta. I am with the Maharaja’s Royal Guard.”

Because of course she was. Why wouldn’t she be? Why wouldn’t Hope have stolen from the Maharaja and bounced? Though you’d never had the pleasure of meeting her face to face, you’d heard more than your share about the infamous Duchess, then Princess, Hope.

Typing. Typing. Typing.

“You’ve got any pictures or detailed descriptions of what the items stolen look like? I’m sure His Majesty will be very curious. And, you know, the more information of what we’re looking for the better.”

And done.

With a tap on your laptop, you’d sent out an email to the Finance Minister. Then up you stood.

“Of course,” Ekta answered coolly.

Not that you blamed her. If you were in her shoes, you would have been super pissed off too. Being robbed was never fun.

“Let’s go see if we can track down His Majesty. If not, we’ll make an appointment with his secretary and then go see who is in the office of our Royal Guard. Someone is always in there and I know that Carol, she’s Captain of the Guard, is working right now.” You explained, as if you felt that telling this unhappy woman all these things could somehow make everything right. Probably not. But you still had to try. It was in your nature to fix problems and you most definitely wanted to fix this problem.

Ekta said nothing.

She merely followed you out of your office and into the hallway which was lined with doors and walls of tasteful and probably expensive original art.

You looked to the left.

Then to the right and nearly died then and there at your luck.

How had you gotten so lucky?

There, mere feet away and closing, was not just Carol but His Majesty, deep in discussion about something that was irritating them both.

You had an inkling that you knew what was at the heart of their discussion.

The sight of you made them stop talking and pause in their tracks, which told you that you had been the one that they were seeking.

Before anything could be done, you bowed. “Your Majesty, just the person I was hoping to find.” Up you flourished your hand to gesture at Ekta, who you could feel was beside you, practically putting off rays of righteousness. “We have a visitor from the Maharaja’s Royal Guard. This is Ekta. She is here because of something that concerns the Duchess Hope.”

The reaction that came was almost immediate from both Steve and Carol.

A look as if Steve had suddenly smelled a dead animal came over his face. Carol however cocked her hip to the side, lifted her chin in a dark blue pantsuit, almost demanding in a knowing sort of way. “What’d she steal from you guys? Art or jewelry?”

For the first time ever, you noted a moment of Ekta’s veneer breaking. Like she was taken off balance. “The duchess stole from you too?” Then, almost as an afterthought came, “Your Majesty?”

And this was news to you too.

You had no idea that Hope had taken souvenirs with her that weren’t free to take when she fled the Royal Palace for India all those years ago.

When Steve spoke, his teeth were clearly clenched together. “Yes. Both. She raided my mother’s room as well as the halls for art and pieces that are priceless. Sacred treasures from my countries history that can never be replaced. She filled her suitcase with on her way out.”

“Every now and then an item will appear on the black market. We can only assume that she is selling them when she is in need of money.” Carol helpfully added.

Beside you, you could practically feel Ekta tremble. Shake out of control one could say.

“Is the Duchess Hope here?”

For that you had no answer.

Carol however had one. “Yes. Her Majesty is taking tea out in the gardens with the Duchess Hope and her own mother.”

After being brought abreast of that development, you had a statement to make. One you thought was obvious. But none-the-less, out it came. Maybe none of them knew? “It’s snowing outside.”

Thus leading Steve to turn his attention on you. Finally. And when he did so, he looked at you as if you were only his Chief of Staff. He looked at you kindly without the heat in his eyes from earlier that morning, when he’d woken you up by pushing himself deep into your body until the both of you reached a climax that made your eyes cross and left an impression of his teeth broken into your shoulder.

“Yes. Mother wanted to be sure that the Duchess Hope did not steal anything else from within the palace walls whilst they are here.”

Well then.

Even you had to admit. The Queen Mother could be downright frosty when the occasion called for it. Pun intended.

“She’s having tea with Queen Janet and Duchess Hope outside? In the frigid temperatures?”

You couldn’t quite make yourself believe it. You blinked. You looked from Steve who appeared casual after his statement, like he just told you the winters here were cold. Over to Carol who was pulling out her phone from her pocket. Acting like you hadn’t said anything out of the normal.

“Your Majesty, I’ll take care of Ekta and deal with this issue. If anything arrives concerning this issue. I will contact you. Nakia will come fill my place today.”

If Steve was greatly upset by any of his, he made no outward indication of it other than a nod of his head that he both heard and understood and accepted what Carol had told him. His attention was instead focused on you.

“I have a meeting concerning the Switzerland trip about the proposed embassy. Go get your notes. You’ll be joining me.”

***

Her Grace, the Duchess Hope van Dyne, had finally made it in the palace after that psycho, the Queen Mother Sarah, had the audacity to serve tea in the garden as flakes of snow drifted down. And if that weren’t barbaric enough, afterwards, she then led them around the winter garden as if Hope gave a damn.

Hope had problems and Queen Sarah was not very receptive to any of her attempts to thaw the ice that had formed around Sarah’s heart. Nor did her mother, Janet, have much luck.

When did Sarah turn into such a bitch?

Sarah should have been ecstatic that Hope would even return to this shithole. Sarah’s son was still single, he needed a queen and his backwoods hovel wanted a queen and Hope had royal blood. What more did Sarah need? Did she need it written down?

When did Sarah turn into such a horrible host?

Hope remembered a distinctively different Sarah. When she had lived in this palace, Steve’s mother had coddled her, practically waited on her hand and foot to be sure that Hope was happy and settling in so far from civilization. Where was that Sarah now?

Somehow, Hope had managed to break away, pleading a need to use the powder room around the time her toes and fingers went numb. As she hadn’t had the time to properly shop for clothes to wear in this frigid shithole. India had been so gloriously warm. She’d loved India. Hope would have loved to stay there but things had gone south.

Eventually, like everything else, it’d blow over.

Until then though, she needed someplace safe to stay. She needed to stay somewhere that the Maharaja couldn’t get her. What she needed was diplomatic immunity. However, that wasn’t going to happen since her father refused to even see her, so she’d just have to settle for sovereign immunity. Granted, Hope hadn’t expected it to be this difficult to see Steven and tell him that she was ready to get married now. For crying out loud, he should have been groveling at her feet for her to come back to him. Especially after that sex tape which had been burning up the internet and royal circles. If there was anything that Hope could do, it was bounce back from a scandal.

This was just ridiculous.

The Queen Mother should have been inviting them to this lunch with her son, instead of practically throwing Hope and Janet out. Which was exactly why Hope was wandering the halls in the search for Steven’s office. Toes tingling in her fashionable pumps. Her fingers burning from the warm air in the administrative offices.

Hope would need a whole new wardrobe once she got Steven onboard with her plan. As his current plan of ignoring the sex tape was absurd. These things needed to be tackled head on. With her as his queen by his side, Hope could handle all of it.

Ah, she found herself pleased at the sight of the royal seal over a doorway marking it as the king’s office.

Valkyrie followed her closely. That bitch.

As soon as Hope was queen, she’d be one of the first on the firing block. Following her around like some manner of commoner who might fill their pockets with royal gold. It was absurd. Hope was born a princess and one day she would become one again.

Hope remembered Valkyrie from when she was a young member of the guard and now, she was a Captain and just as irreprehensible as Carol, who Hope also despised. Both of them had to go. Reaching out with a hand that held a ring belonging to the sister of the Maharaja, Hope opened the door and marched right into the office of Steven’s secretary. Who was apparently gone for lunch.

Not that the room was empty.

Nakia, who had been seated on a couch in the office, stood. Dressed in a dark blue suit that all the royal guard wore. Her face stony at the sight of Hope and then darkened further in disgust. She stood tall. Regally. Holding her head high when she spoke down to the former princess. “The king is busy.”

Not that Hope would settle for anything less than seeing Steven in person immediately. She stepped forward. “The king is having lunch with his mother in fifteen minutes. I know for a fact he’s not doing anything of importance. Get out of my way, or I’ll have you selling souvenirs from a cart outside the palace when I am queen.”

At such a statement, Nakia found herself wanting to both laugh and spit in the face of this western woman. One who had referred to her people and country as little more than a backwoods hellhole full of illiterate stone pounders.

How often Nakia had dreamt of being so close to the Duchess Hope, how she thought of ripping out this woman’s forked tongue.

“Let her in,” came Valkyrie’s voice in their native tongue from the eastern regions of the land.

Sending Nakia’s dark eyes past Hope. A knowing expression claimed her features. “His Majesty is in there waiting for our queen.”

A shrug came from the senior guardswoman.

Nakia would be the first to admit, she had not been hopeful when the crown prince had been coronated as a teenager. No one in the country had been particularly hopeful but now, nearly everyone supported their king. His Majesty was a good king who served them all as much as they served him.

Nakia was protective of her king. She wanted her king to marry his Chief of Staff yesterday. Her land was in need of a queen, a woman’s touch one could say.

Knowing what was at stake with the coming lunch that her king would attend with his mother and lover, a visit from the Duchess Hope would not put him in the best of moods. The Queen Mother always grew quiet when King Steven was in such a mood. Why would Nakia allow such a thing to happen?

“Perhaps if he tells her she isn’t wanted here she’ll leave sooner? Let her in. That is an order.”

Pursing her lips unhappily, Nakia stepped back.

She wasn’t about to open the door to His Majesty’s office for this interloper. However, she would no longer stand in the way. Nakia even made sure to send a look that screamed impending homicidal violence. Spurring Hope quickly through the door without another syllable directed at Nakia.

Which was fine with Hope.

Hope couldn’t get away from Nakia quick enough.

Wanting distance sent Hope into the king’s large office without much thought. Looking as if it belonged in an old Victorian estate with dark wood, so many books, old art and thick dark Turkish Rugs.

What Hope did not expect was how much the prince had grown.

No longer a gangly young man whose mother had to have padding sewn into the robes that he was coronated in. This man sitting at his desk was big in every way. Exuding power in a manner that most could only dream and for a second, seeing Steven look at her with shocking blue eyes and stubble darkening his face, she was rendered speechless.

“What do you want Hope,” came Steven’s voice, more than a little annoyed. Far more emotion than she’d ever seen from the young man. Who was now very obviously a man.

This was not the Steven she remembered.

Before her was not the young man she remembered at all. Every last bit of him was very much a king and Hope suddenly, possibly for the first time in her life, found herself regretting many of the past choices she made. It seemed her mother was right. She’d been far too hasty in her youth. Her mother had told her that the prince would mature like a fine wine. Hope had written that off as nonsense meant to trap her into an arranged marriage like so many women before her.

Now?

Now she was looking at a tall powerful man close a very modern looking laptop and turn his attention on her in such a way that made her gut coil. What would it have been like to be the woman in the video? And where the hell did that thought come from? She had been wrong. So so very wrong.

Finally, gathering herself, Hope peered around the office and fussed at the pearl buttons on her coat. “I saw the video…” A noise came from Steven that she’d never heard before, yet, she went on. “…and since we’re still technically engaged, I thought I would return to help you put out the fires of this scandal.”

Another noise came from the king, a derisive snort.

“Wow. That’s cute. Highly amusing coming from you.” Though there was no hint of heat or passion in his words that had been so evident on that video. In her opinion, he didn’t even sound bored. Worse. Steven then leaned back in his seat, peered around her and asked, “Who let you in here?”

Those words, those uncaring words as if she were little more than the two guards outside his office made her burn, bristle.

Which had Hope clearing her throat, bristling one could say. “Actually, it’s more than cute. If you recall, I come from a distinguished royal house. Our engagement is a legally binding agreement.”

For the reaction she got, she might as well have told him it was showing outside.

As she was prone to when there was silence that needed to be filled, Hope pushed the waves of dark hair over her shoulder. She shifted from one foot to the other and watched Steven lean back in his chair.

Finally, as if sensing that she wasn’t going to leave, Steve offered her a shrug. Finding the mere sight of her numbing. He could have cared less what she did one way or the other. So long as she stayed out of his room. He had valuable things in there that he was fond of. “I’m not marrying you. Do with that as you will, you’ll find no sanctuary here.”

This was most certainly not the Steven that she had left all those years ago. It took Hope a second to collect herself, to steel herself. No one had spoken to her in such a way in quite a while. Her brain screamed at her that damage control needed to be done but she was not sure how. In what way? What did she say?

Hope’s brain screamed at her that the plan was failing, everything was going wrong. This was not supposed to happen this way and now she was failing horrendously. What did she do? How could she fix this?

Pricks of pain came from her fists as her nails dug into her palms. Telling Hope that when she unclenched her fists, she would see blood. “You have to marry me!”

Oh this was bad.

This was really really bad.

Across the expanse of his desk, Steve remained calm. Almost to the point of uncaring and such demeanor was reflected in his words. In the way his broad shoulders shrugged and how he rubbed his rough cheek, as if that were more interesting.

“I do not need or want your assistance for anything, forget that video. There is no reason for me to be ashamed of it.”

“Steven! Listen!”

He could see the desperation on her face, hear it in her voice and after so long, he wished he could say that it was rewarding. He wished that he could say it made him feel better after everything that had happened.

It didn’t.

There was just nothing. Little more than cold numbness. Steve felt absolutely nothing.

Nothing was there anymore.

When he looked at Hope there was nothingness.

It reminded him of his father. He hated when he felt that way, when he thought of his father. There was no one on this earth that Steve loathed more. It was his very purpose for being, to not be his father. To end that cycle. To let it die with him.

Most irritably, he shifted in his seat. His eyes found the picture of you both on his desk from a trip to Scotland.

Hints of his father swirled with every syllable only furthering his inner revulsion with himself, his genes and heritage.

“When you left, I did not officially break our engagement as a common courtesy to your father. No more no less. I am a king. You cannot compel me to do anything.”

Pools of blue found Hope again though. A little bit of serene malice hovered between them.

“If you continue to be an annoyance, I will. I am a king now. I have a country to govern. I do not have time for the childish games and pursuits that occupy the western families.”

“Steven this is serious! I could go to prison! In India!”

May his ancestors help him, his first initial response would have been to remind her of her place, remind her of how he should be addressed.

His Majesty.

Exactly as his father would, he swore he heard his father’s voice in his ear.

“You have to help me out! I’m begging you! I don’t care about that other woman. You can have all the mistresses you want!”

A peek down at his watch told Steve that he had minutes to wrap this up and go collect you. Minutes. He had minutes to regain his sanity before he saw his mother.

Minutes.

“Steven!”

Standing from his chair, he shook his head. Doing his best to silence the sound of his father telling him he was not good enough, was not worthy, was not fit to rule. His voice was soft because Steve would not yell like that man. “No Hope. I’m sorry, but no. You remind me of my father. You make me feel like him. You bring him back to life and I cannot live with his ghost. So no. You will have to deal with the consequences of your actions like the rest of us.”

Her eyes went wild.

Steve could see it and was glad he wasn’t within reach of her. He watched her grab a Fabergé Egg from the end of his desk.

Colorful glass accented in gold with rubies around the middle. It fit in her hand but only just, being the size of an ostrich egg and then it went soaring through the air where it smashed loudly into a wall. Denting the dark wood and shattering. Smashing into dozens and dozens of colorful pieces that fell to the floor.

Having felt the very loss of hope itself, she turned to set her storm on him. “You’ll regret this, Your Majesty.” Before turning and leaving, slamming his office door behind her as hard as possible. Leaving Steve with the sound of his father telling him that he wasn’t worthy.

***

Lipstick?

No lipstick?

It was a question for the ages.

A swipe or two of lipstick always gave you the courage you needed in any occasion. But then again, this was not merely any occasion. This was lunch with your boyfriends mother to officially meet her and get to know her, because you were in a serious committed relationship with her son. Because you loved her son.

Oh, and her son was the king, so there were expectations on that already plus with her being the Queen Mother, that was sorta already an expectation of its own.

Lipstick?

No lipstick?

You wanted to look your best because the Queen Mother always looked immaculate. But you also didn’t want to risk getting lipstick on your teeth. Leading you to peer once more into the bathroom mirror.

No. No lipstick. If you put on lipstick you’d be thinking about your lipstick and you needed to focus on making a good impression.

Otherwise, your makeup looked fabulous. Really. Five stars. Two thumbs up.

This had you stuffing your makeup back into your purse and kinda sorta looking up when the bathroom door opened, shut and was locked. Because really. Why would the door be locking?

In the art deco styled bathroom, Steve’s form was very clear and your eyebrows shot up.

Luckily, you were alone, considering how beyond pissed off he looked. One hundred and ten percent not fit to have lunch with his mother. Not with him in this condition.

You had no idea what happened, but something had happened.

He crossed the red and white marble tiled floor. Walked past the gilded edged stalls and stained-glass doors to where you stood at one of four sinks with bronze fixtures and ornately framed mirrors.

To be honest, it was your favorite bathroom of all time. Your Instagram was full of pictures of this bathroom, selfies in this bathroom, up-close pictures of the stained glass.

“Are you ok?”

Beneath his smoothly shaven face, his jaw twitched. “Fine. Are you ready?”

He was tense enough you wouldn’t have been shocked if his joints started to pop, or his teeth cracked from how hard he was clenching his jaw.

Seeing him like this was a no go for Queen Sarah. Everyone knew that she hated to see her son like this and at first you never knew why, not until someone had told you that her husband had the same mannerisms. Steve’s father done the same thing when he had been angry.

While it was common knowledge that Steve was not his father, Steve would never hit his mother.

Some memories could just never be wiped clean.

Having Steve like this was not how you wanted this first lunch with his mother to go. Not one bit. Both of them needed to be on cloud fucking nine. Meaning you were going to have to do something.

“Almost,” was what you told him. A plan already set into motion as you grabbed a few paper towels from the bronze dish that held them between sinks.

One last peek at your hair and you were set. Purse in hand. You stepped on over to press your lips to the flat firm line that was Steve’s mouth. “Could you hold this for me?”

Steve never questioned you or thought twice.

Whether it was from love or trust, or he was too angry over whatever? No one would ever know.

But you seized the moment! Pounced on the opportunity.

You acted as if you were going to check your pumps and instead, set down the paper towels so you could kneel at his feet. Before Steve even had a second to think about it, you had his pants unbuttoned, unzipped and down around his knees. Knowing that the king went commando that morning worked seamlessly into your plan.

His dick hung softly between his muscular creamy thighs.

“What are you doing?”

“Hold my purse with both hands, Your Majesty.”

Though soft, his size was still above average. His penis was solid. Thick. A pink tip peeked out beneath foreskin that was stretched over his member. Soft as velvet, you kissed his slit as you pushed his foreskin up to reveal his shaft.

“Remember the first time I ever saw your dick?”

You sank down on his soft flesh after, sucking him in till nearly all of him fit in your mouth. It rarely happened. Only when he wasn’t erect. When Steve was erect, it wasn’t physically possible unless you unhinged your jaw and didn’t have a gag reflex.

“Oh god…” he gasped out at the warm and wet sensation of your mouth closing around him. Cold air on his ass cheeks. Exposed. Vulnerable. His sac hanging heavy and you down on your knees, taking nearly all of him in your mouth.

Steve clung to your purse like a lifeline.

Thinking back, you hummed out thoughtfully, knowing how fantastic the vibrations felt on him. Knowing that the warm softness that was his dick would soon harden. Until then, you enjoyed how you could take him like this. You relished the smell of him, musky and male. Savored how smooth his skin was on your tongue. Reached up and cupped his testicles that hung down for you.

It’d been at a fundraiser.

A black-tie affair for something or another, who could remember?

The two of you had stolen away towards the end, snuck off when everyone was mingling together and socializing. Slightly tipsy or buzzed from the open bar.

Not the two of you.

No.

Both of you had barely drank. Focused instead on getting away so you could steal some moments together. Moments like these. Moments where your hands were all over one another, your mouths hungry for one another. Frantic for that connection between your bodies that nature demanded and you both were trying so hard to make happen.

Tonight was the night though.

You were determined.

Sucking him deep. Swirling your tongue around him. You could feel Steve starting to thicken up which had you popping off his mouth and surveying the sight of his dick taking on a pinkish hue as blood filled it.

“Are you thinking about it, Your Majesty? About how fucking big your cock is? About how it shocked me? Remember?”

Based alone on the sound that came from Steve, you could deduce that he remembered. Possibly even vividly.

“I remember,” you cooed, licking his pink head and suckling on the end of his dick. Flicking against the hole with your tongue. Massaging his balls. Taking his hardening shaft in your other hand. Needing him to feel only you. Needing him to be here with you. “It was the biggest dick I’d ever seen in my life.”

”You don’t have to.” He had whispered to you in a dark corner of the atrium. Hidden by plants and furniture.

Not that you’d cared.

By that point he had gone down on your countless times and you’d never seen it. Only feeling it through his pants when you’d made-out or groped him, when your bodies rubbed against one another in a frantic urge for completion.

“Jesus Christ Steve! You’re the only man I know who doesn’t want his dick sucked.”

“It’s not that…” he came back with, pausing and finally giving in, allowing you to unzip the black pants of his tux and yank them down. Pull them down and out it popped.

Erect.

Hard. So hard.

Foreskin drawn back to reveal an angry red head smeared with pre-cum.

It was massive, a beast, the hugest dick you’d ever laid eyes on and from on your knees, in a ballgown, made up to feel like a princess. You gasped. You straight up gasped like you were a teenage girl seeing your very first penis. Albeit, the one that was so full of blood it bobbed eye level with you, pointing upwards, was considerably more impressive and probably five inches longer than that first ever dick, easy. As you didn’t exactly have a tape measure on you for comparison.

“Oh my god…” you whispered, well aware that your eyes were wide and mouth was very likely a perfect O. “It’s so big! It’s like the biggest I’ve ever seen! Steve your dick is huge! What do you feed it?”

His voice was a bit concerned. Embarrassed even?

Was he embarrassed about this behemoth in his pants?

“I’m sorry, I know. It can be uncomfortable to give me oral sex. You really don’t have to. I don’t expect.”

But you had cut him off with grabby hands wrapping around his erection, pushing up his foreskin and licking the salty jizz that was starting to ooze out. “Shut up, Your Majesty. Tell me how you want it.” In your ministrations you had lifted up his generous manhood and set eyes upon the heavy balls that hung down between his thighs. “Holy Canada! You have a set of balls to match. You have no idea how much fun I’m going to have fitting those in my mouth.”

When you finally ripped your eyes away from his sexual organ, you shook your head and admonished him severely. “I cannot believe you’d keep this from me!”

Exactly how you knew Steve liked, you sucked on his head and played with the tip of your tongue on his hole. You took him as deep as you could as his erection grew harder and harder in your mouth. Tracing your tongue along the sides and pumping him with your hand until his girth grew so wide, you were unable to touch your fingertips around him.

Up and down you sank on his cock. Till he was rigid beneath your lips and you drug your teeth along at times to heighten the sensation.

Slurping. Squeezing his balls. Hollowing out your cheeks and swallowing any salty release that began to dribble out. You savored the sight of his fingers clenching your purse tightly and his eyes screwed shut.

Between languid trips up and down his length, you pulled off to lick his blunt tip with the flat of your tongue.

“What are you thinking about, My King?”

At first, you didn’t think he would or could answer, which was fine. Your attention was on the round edge of his organ. Licking it. Flicking it with your tongue. Playing with it till you sank back down.

After a few seconds.

After a deep breath from Steve.

After that, he managed to get out.

“Thinking about that night. The night I took your maidenhead.”

Your maidenhead?

Well, that was a trip to past. It sent your eyes up and your mouth back off him so you could speak without a mouth full of dick. “Mmm. Thinking about how you went crazy? How you went all feral and popped my cherry?”

In your hand his penis twitched.

It was too perfect an opportunity to not pounce upon it.

If you couldn’t make him come from saying these filthy disgusting true things to him, did you really deserve to marry this man? “Your Majesty? Does it turn you on to think about my having been a virgin? About how you’re the only man to ever be in my body? Do you remember how tight I was? How hard you had to push to break my hymen?”

Little motions came from Steve. Whether he knew it or not. He was making small thrusts into your mouth that you hummed around, sucked on.

Something hit the floor.

Hands were on your head, fingers were in your hair. A wicked smile curled over your lips and Steve was methodically pumping into your mouth.

He sounded strained. He sounded like he was in pain.

“Felt so good. You’re so good to me. My angel. You were so tight.” He declared, announced, would have shouted to the heavens if he was capable. Each word came out in cadence. Almost in a chant. “Felt so good. Feels so good still. You’re mine. You’re mine. You’re mine.” On top of feeling you sucking him deep. Paired with your fingers holding his testicles tight. Mixed with your fist wrapped around his base. It was a glorious storm coming together to make him shatter.

Steve was going to come. He was going to come like right now.

It sent his thoughts spiraling along with his words.

“Love you. Love your body. Love being in you. So warm and tight and mine. All mine. All of you is mine. Want you. Want to fill you. Want want want.”

Gasping out. His breath gone. All air left his lungs when Steve climaxed into your mouth. A pitched noise did come that was followed with his fingers pulling your face against him, his pelvis pushing into you. A moan that made him weak in the knees followed that told him you were pleased with him. You were happy.

If he died in the next moment, he would have been a happy man.

All Steve could feel was pleasure. It consumed him body. It whited out his mind. It made his balls empty into the warmth of your mouth, till he was certain that nothing remained.

Even then you weren’t done.

Helpless. Awestruck.

Hopelessly devoted, Steve watched you drag your tongue around him to clean him up. Catching the last few spurts of ejaculate on your tongue before you showed him, then swallowed his seed.

Rendering him panting and sweaty.

He dropped down onto his knees and he kissed you. Mindless. Unable to think about anything else other than your mouth and being lucky enough to have convinced you to be his woman. Steve kissed you deeply, uncaring about the fact he could taste himself, unconcerned when his tongue curled around yours that he might have gotten some of his own ejaculate. His Majesty didn’t care.

Nor was he overly concerned about his knees being on the cold marble tile when he groaned against your mouth. “Love you. Love you so much. Love you to the moon and back.”

[itscominghome]

Hey bestie , I love what you write . Can you do one with mason , where they are dating and she gets negative comments and like she feels very bad but didn’t tell him . At the end he finds out and he takes her defens .💕💕

thank you for your request :) sorry it took so long x

Summary: Since you and Mason made your relationship public three months ago, you have received negative and abusive messages from fans. But when everything takes a drastic turn, Mason is there to protect you and takes to social media afterwards to shut down all the abuse and threats.

Warnings: Derogatory language

I'll Always Protect You

"Mason deserves better"

"Slut"

"You're not even that pretty"

"What does Mount see in you"

"I wish he'd just hurry up and break up with you"

"Lets be honest, you wouldn't look twice at him if he wasn't who he was"

"You're just with him for the money"

"I know where you live"

"Break up with him, we know where you live"

These were just some of the many Instagram messages I would receive daily. Some were just calling me names or making me out to be a gold-digger and the sorts. But those on the worse end of the spectrum, those threatening me made me feel sick in the stomach. They had started just over three months ago after Mason and I had gone public with our relationship and they hadn't stopped, only gotten worse. I hadn't told Mason about any of them, I mean surely all of the threats were empty, just a series of words strung together to try and scare me. But part of me was scared that if Mason saw them, he'd start to believe them himself.

"What you looking at, baby," Mason asks from beside me on the bed, sounding concerned. I realised that there must've been a shift in my emotions and immediately plastered a smile onto my face.

"Nothing, Mase," I reply, my voice unsteady. I hate lying to him.

"Tell me you're not reading one of those stupid articles about us again," he says, looking at me, a look of sadness on his face. On top of the private messages I had been receiving, there were a few articles online from gossip sites and even big newspaper companies slating our relationship. Of course, Mason knew about those, there was no way to keep them quiet.

"I don't care what they say, I love you," he would affirm every time he saw one or caught me reading one.

Mason had stayed over at my house last night, not yet moved in with each other, but today wasn't one of the days we could have a lazy day. A day spent cuddling up to each other in bed, doing nothing but watch films, or catch up on the latest episode of 'Married at Frist Sight', which Mason would repeatedly remind me he hated (he loved it really). But, unfortunately, Mason did have training on my day off. I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head before the bed dipped beneath me as he started getting ready.

"I'll come and pick you up later and we can go out for a meal or something," he promised as he opened the door thirty minutes later, pecking my lips lightly.

"Sounds good," I smile, "I love you,"

"I love you too," he says before closing the door and making his way to his car.

Tap. Tap. I looked up from the TV to look around for the source of the tapping noise. I noticed it almost straight away and my heart skipped a beat. There was someone outside my window, tapping on the glass, wearing a black balaclava. I froze in my seat, my hands shaking. He continued tapping for a few more seconds before moving to another window and continuing. Then he moved to the door, jiggling the handle in an attempt to open it. At this point, I start to panic, even more, rushing around looking for my phone.

"Where is it..? Where the fuck did I leave it..?" I whisper to myself as I rush upstairs, extremely distressed. I find it on my bedside table in my room and immediately dial Mason. Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring.

"Come on, pick up, pick up, Mase." Ring ring. Ring r-.

"Baby, you can't be missing me that much already, I've only been gone for ten minutes," he jokes light-heartedly.

"Mase..." I say, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Baby, what's wrong? What's happening? Talk to me," he says, concern evident in his voice.

"Someone's outside, they... they were at the window... tapping it. And... And then they... they started trying to open the door. I can hear them shouting through the letterbox and hitting the door. Mase, I don't know what to do," I say, tears streaking down my face.

"Shit... I'm turning around right now, I'll be back as quick as I can, lock yourself in the bathroom or something, just in case they get in. Stay on the phone," I nod, trying to steady my breathing. On my way to the bathroom across the hall, I can hear the abusive muffled shouts. I pray to God that Mason can't hear what is being said through the phone.

I hear Mason's car pull up in the driveway and his car door slam shut. I unlock the bathroom door and race downstairs where I can see him attempting to confront my perpetrator before he runs away. I open the door, tears of terror still staining my cheeks. Mason sees me and runs over, pulling me into a hug

"Hey, hey it's okay, they're gone, I'm here now. I've got you," he comforts, taking me back into the house and sitting me down to calm me down.

"I didn't think they were being serious..." I say under my breath.

"Baby, what are you on about?" I try my best to play it off as nothing, but Mason won't listen.

"It was just a few messages, it doesn't matter,"

"Show me them," I reluctantly pass him my unlocked phone and he scrolls through my message requests.

"Why didn't you tell me..." he says with a frown, clearly upset that I had not confided in him.

"I thought that if you saw them, you'd start to believe what everyone was saying,"

"Oh, baby..." he whispers, pulling me into his chest, "Nothing anyone says will ever change how I feel about you. Go and get yourself a bag packed and you can come to training with me,"

"It has recently come to light the amount of hate, abuse and downright threats have been hurled at my girlfriend, Y/N. And to tell you the truth, I'm disgusted. So, I've come to Instagram to address it.

I was unaware of how much abuse had been projected onto her until earlier today when I read some of the messages she has been receiving on both Instagram and Twitter. Most accounts claimed to be Chelsea fans, but as I'm sure all of my teammates would agree, to verbally abuse one of our partners, someone that I LOVE, does not qualify you as a Chelsea fan.

I had obviously seen all of the news articles, those I could look past, but the threats became very real today. I am sure that those of you who messaged threats like "We know where you live, break up with him," were all just empty words. But today, I had to drive back to Y/N's house after leaving for training after receiving a phone call from her, telling me that someone was tormenting her in her own home. If this happens again, it WILL become a matter that will need to be treated more seriously.

Finally, I would like to say that no online abuse of anyone should be tolerated. People in the public eye have feelings too, they are human too. It is never okay to attack someone for loving who they love. I know that this message will not stomp out all of the abuse, but I hope that the majority of you are mature enough to take what I have said into account and will consider what you say before you send it.

M19" I read aloud to myself when I see that Mason has posted. I feel a pair of arms snake their way around my waist, pulling me closer into his body. Mason.

"Thank you for protecting me today,"

"I'll always protect you,"

Sorry I'm taking ages to write requests, I have been so busy with coursework and homework as of late. That, and posting about 30 things about the match today. So, sorry for the spam, but I hope you enjoyed this request! <33

[charlies-gillespie]

private relationship | charlie gillespie (part 1)

PART TWO

paring: fem!reader x charlie gillespie

summary: reader and Charlie have been in a very private relationship. none of their fans know that they’re together, until a slip up at a very public event changes everything for the pair

requested: no

length: long

rating: PG (borderline PG-13 tho for some nsfw jokes)

warnings: a dirty joke or two, a few sexual innuendos throughout, drinking

!! MY GIF - give creds if used !!

authors note: “mon amour” means “my love” in french. it’ll probably be used a lot throughout the imagine

another author’s note: would y’all want a part two, but with smut?

MASTERLIST

“Charlie!” you call. Your voice echoes through your apartment. “Can you come here for a second?”

You need help zipping your dress. Charlie was the first to get to your apartment. He’s been waiting for Owen, Madison, Jeremy, Jadah, and Savannah, and Sacha to get here so your group can go to the release party together. It’s a formal event so you had to wear a dress and heels. It wasn’t your first choice, especially the heels part.

Charlie appears in the doorway and says, “Yea- woah.” You see him in your mirror. His eyes are on you. He looks good in his suit that he’s wearing. His jacket and pants are black, his button-up beneath the jacket is white, but he wears a silver tie to compliment the color of your pale pink dress since he can’t match your dress.

A smile forms on your lips and you ask, “Can you come zip up my dress, please?” Charlie nods and walks into your bedroom. You watch him as he slowly zips up your dress.

The dress is a long, baby pink dress with satin fabric. The skirt is a little poofy from the waist down. The top hugs your chest, pushing your breasts up a little bit so they look a little bigger than they actually are. A sparkly silver belt sits on your waist to add some sparkle to the dress. The sleeves are off your shoulders, and there are hidden pockets in the skirt.

Your boyfriend admires you in the mirror. You’re fully dressed now. Your hair is loosely curled and you have a natural makeup look painted on your face. The light color of the dress compliments your tan skin.

“You look stunning, mon amour,” Charlie sighs. “Absolutely stunning.”

You lean your head back a bit, resting it against Charlie’s shoulder. “You clean up very nicely, Charlie,” you say. “I like that you matched me without actually matching me.”

He laughs and says, “I might’ve had Mads and Jadah help me with that little detail. I wanted to match you but it would draw suspicion to us.”

When you and Charlie started dating almost nine months ago, both of you agreed to keep it on the very low. No social media posts unless hanging out in a group setting, no tagging each other in stories if you were alone together, and only going as far as following each other on social media since you’ve worked on the same show together. The fans don’t even know that you’re friends with each other at this point. Only your closest friends that are going with you to the event tonight know that you and Charlie are together.

Kenny Ortega also knows since he’s technically your boss and you’re both co-workers. He also might have found you making out with Charlie after the two of you got carried away when cuddling on Julie’s bed after a few hours of shooting scenes. You couldn’t lie to him after that.

Tonight is a very public event. Pictures will be taken, journalists will be wanting every juicy detail, and fans have been invited to the event so if there’s even a little be of suspicion, it won’t take very long to go public. It’s the release night party for Julie and the Phantoms season two. Everyone’s been invited to watch the first few episodes of the new season.

You feel Charlie kiss your bare shoulder and you giggle softly. “I’m sure everyone will be getting here soon so we should go wait out in the living room,” you tell your boyfriend.

“I wish I was able to touch you tonight,” he says. “It’s your big Netflix debut, Y/N. I wish I was able to hug you and show you how proud I am of you.”

A little sigh leaves your body and you say, “You can hug me. I’m sure a friendly hug won’t hurt, as long as you hug other people too. As for showing me that you’re proud of me, you can do that later when we’re alone.” You send him a playful wink so he gets what you mean.

Charlie’s jaw drops and he blinks at you. “I-you, um,” your boyfriend stammers. “Okay, yeah. I’m going to show you just how proud I am of you later, baby.”

You turn and face Charlie. “I look forward to it, Charlie,” you tell him, leaning up. He smiles and lightly pecks your lips.

Someone knocks on the door and you click out of the room in your silver heels to answer the door. Owen and Jeremy stand at the door. Jer’s wife, Carolynn, stands beside him.

“Hi, Y/N,” Owen greets you. “You look very pretty. I saw Charlie’s car in the parking garage so where is that loser?”

You laugh and say, “Probably still in my bedroom. Go get him. I think I shocked him or something with my words.” Owen pushes past you. Jeremy follows him, leaving you and Carolynn alone.

Carolynn smiles and says, “I love that color on you, Y/N. It suits you.”

“Thank you,” you say, shooting her a little smile. You’ve grown close to Carolynn since she’s married to Jeremy and you’ve spent a lot of time hanging out with the guys in a group.

You let Carolynn walk in before closing the door behind her. Faintly, you hear Owen say, “Bro, what’s going on with you? Your face is red.”

Charlie responds with, “I am so having sex tonight, dude.”

Both you and Carolynn laugh in the living room as Carolynn asks, “I don’t want to know what that’s about, do I?”

As you sit, you say, “Charlie said he wishes he could touch me tonight at the party so he could show me how proud he was of me. I told him he can show me how proud he is of me later when we’re alone.”

Carolynn says, “Ah, okay. That makes sense. Congratulations, by the way. Making your big Netflix debut tonight. How’s it feel?”

“I’m excited, but very nervous,” you admit. “The first season did so well and won so many awards that I’m scared that I’m going to come in and ruin the whole show and that people won’t like my character.”

She says, “You play the nice daughter of the villain of the show. Everyone will probably love you when they realize that your character wants to help the Phantoms instead of siding with Caleb. Don’t tell Jer and the guys but I think you have one of the best songs of the season so I think the fans will definitely love that.”

You smile as there is another knock on the door. Charlie, Owen, and Jeremy come into the living room as you answer the door.

Savannah stands in the doorway with Mads, Sacha, and Jadah. “I had to pick up the kiddos,” Sav says. “Ooh, Y/N. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you say, smiling. “We’re just waiting for the limo to get here. I think we have a half hour or so before it gets here.”

Kenny is sending a limo to your apartment for the nine of you. When you decided to go as a group so you and Charlie could go together, Kenny pitched in and helped like the wonderful human being he is.

Owen decides to go live with Jeremy on his Instagram account for a few minutes. Carolynn talks with Savannah, Sacha, and Jadah while you find yourself talking with Charlie and Madison.

Mads says, “Kenny is giving us the opportunity to sing on stage together tonight. He told me that we can pick whatever song from either season. He thinks the fans would want to hear Perfect Harmony or Stand Tall since those were massive after season one dropped.”

Charlie nods and says, “Stand Tall would be good since all of us can get in on that number. I can talk to Jeremy and Owen about it when they get off live.”

You smile at the two of them and say, “That’s exciting. The fans will be so excited for this little surprise.”

“We can thank Kenny when it goes really well,” Mads says with a laugh. “He’s always got these great ideas. I don’t know how he comes up with them.”

Both you and Charlie laugh as your phone rings. You answer it, speaking to the limo driver. After a moment, you hang up the phone and announce, “Limo is here. Let’s head on out.”

Everyone gets their things together, Owen gets off Instagram live, and you all head down two floors to pile into the limo.

The drive from your apartment to the Laglyan Complex on North Vine Street is close to forty minutes. It was close to six when you left and it’s almost seven when you arrive to the venue for tonight’s event.

There is a red carpet laid out across the front of the building to the door. There is a lot of press here and a lot of cameras flashing. Cheyenne Jackson and Booboo Stewart are together on the carpet. You spot Kenny with one of the assistant directors.

When the press spots the limo, they begin to mumble to each other as they try to figure out who is in the car. Owen and Jeremy get out first. The press begin to snap pictures of the guys. Madison gets out with Jadah. Carolynn, Sacha, and Savannah. Sacha pairs up with Savannah while Mads, Jadah and Carolynn walk the carpet together until Carolynn finds her way to her husband.

Charlie helps you out of the car. The journalists call Charlie’s name as you close the door behind you. “Go,” you order him. “I’ll be okay. You’re the star of the show.” He smiles and sends you a wink since his back is turned toward the cameras. He walks off and your eyes follow him. Cheyenne walks over.

“Look at you, Y/N,” he says. “You look wonderful.”

You smile and say, “Thank you, Cheyenne. You look nice tonight. I love the suit.” He wears a shirt similar to his Julie and the Phantoms character, Caleb Covington. You play his daughter on the show.

Cheyenne holds his arm out for you and you hook your elbow with his. The cameras snap away at you and Cheyenne since the two of you play a father-daughter duo. Booboo comes and joins you and Cheyenne as the ‘Hollywood Ghost Club Crew’, as Booboo dubbed the three of you. The band is getting pictures together. Savannah, Sacha, and Jadah are getting their pictures taken together. Carolynn is getting her pictures done.

The journalists call out questions to the cast. They ask Madi which season was her favorite, which she replies with, “Y’all really going to make me choose? I can’t do that.”

Owen is asked whether or not we’ll get a Willex kiss in the future, which Owen replies with, “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

All the journalists laugh. One of them calls out, “Y/N, what was it like joining a show that already had a pretty large fan base and a successful first season?”

“It was nerve wracking at first,” you admit. “But the cast welcomed me with open arms and I’ve made some very, very close friends.” You shoot a smile to the cameras.

A second journalist calls out to everyone, “Are there any secret romances on set that no one knows about?”

Most of the cast, including you and Charlie, laughs. Owen answers with, “Now it wouldn’t be a secret if we told everyone. But no, there aren’t any secret romances. That I know of at least.”

After a few more pictures and questions, we all head inside. The main room as a bunch of tables set up and a little stage with Madi’s piano, Charlie’s guitars, Jeremy’s bass, and Owen’s drums. There are a few fans that were exclusively invited that are scattered around. They start getting excited when they see you walk in with everyone.

You find your table. You’re sitting with Owen, Charlie, Jeremy, Carolynn, Cheyenne, Booboo, and Savannah. This is the “adult” table, you guess. Mads, Jadah, and Sacha sit with Kenny and a few of the younger cast members at another table.

You’re sitting between Charlie and Owen. Someone needs to sit between them or they’ll be at each other all night. That’s your argument if someone is suspicious of you and Charlie.

Suddenly, you feel someone’s fingers lace with yours under the cloth that’s on the table. You glance over at Charlie and he has a little smile on his face as he talks with Jeremy. You turn and say to Owen softly, “Did Charlie really say that he’s having sex tonight?”

Owen laughs a bit and nods. “He thinks he is anyway,” the blond says. “Is he?”

“If he can behave himself then yes,” you say. Owen chuckles.

You feel Charlie squeeze your hand. You know he heard so you smile.

After small conversation with everyone at the table, you get up and get a drink. You walk to the bar, asking for a martini. While you wait, you’re approached by a guy dressed in a nice button-up shirt and dress pants. His hair is in a neat bun behind his head. “Hi,” he says. “I’m Austin.”

“Y/N,” you say.

“I couldn’t notice you came over here alone,” he says.

The bartender gives you your drink and you say, “I just came over to grab a drink. I was going to go back to my table after I grabbed it.”

Austin pulls out his wallet and hands the bartender a twenty dollar bill. “Let me at least pay for it,” he says.

You smile a bit and say, “Thank you. I must be headed back to the table with my friends now. I appreciate the drink, though.”

He blocks your way and you look up at him. “How about a dance in return for the drink?” Austin suggests.

Feeling more and more uncomfortable, you say, “Maybe later. I need to get back to my friends.”

Austin asks, “What’s the rush? It’s not like you have a boyfriend or anything. I follow your social media accounts and you never post a guy.”

You begin to say, “Actually, I-” before Charlie walks up. You let out a soft sigh of relief.

“Everything okay here?” Charlie asks. “You were taking a while to come get a drink so I thought that I’d come check.”

The stranger says, “All good here. I was just offering Y/N a dance here since I paid for her drink.”

Charlie looks down at you and blinks before you say, “I didn’t ask him to pay for it. He took out a twenty and offered.” Austin looks between you and your secret boyfriend.

Then Charlie says, “If you offered yourself then Y/N isn’t obligated to dance with you just because you paid for her drink.”

Austin says, “Well, I’ll just ask again later.” The man walks away and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Your boyfriend moves and stands in front of you. He asks, “Are you okay?”

You nod and say, “Yeah, thank you. It was just uncomfortable. I didn’t know how to get out of it.”

Charlie reaches up to cup your face in his hands but he stops before he can touch your face. You look up at him before you lean forward, putting your face in Charlie’s hands. Your eyes flutter closed and you smile.

“Y/N,” Charlie says. “People are looking.”

With a sigh, you say, “I just need you to touch me, Charlie. I want you.”

He runs his thumbs over your cheekbones and you can hear pictures being taken. You put your drink on the bar counter and step closer to Charlie.

Your eyes open and you find Charlie looking down at you. He says, “You know what this means for us, right?”

You nod and say, “Our on-the-low relationship isn’t as on the low now. I don’t mind that anymore because I’m tired of guys coming up and trying to flirt with me while I have a boyfriend.”

Charlie chuckles a bit as he says, “I hope that means I can kiss you now. It’s all I’ve wanted to do tonight.”

“Yeah,” you sigh.

With no hesitation, Charlie leans down and crashes his lips to yours. You press your body against his, grabbing his jacket and holding him close to you. You kiss Charlie back just as hard as he kissed you. Your eyes are closed again but you can see flashes behind your eyes. You pull back from the kiss and stare up at Charlie.

Both of you smile at each other as Charlie says, “You better be ready for what happens after this.”

You push Charlie’s hair away form his face and say, “What happens after this is you get on that stage tonight, you kill it, we go back to your place because it’s closer, and you get all the sex you want.”

Charlie’s face turns a little red and he says, “I will never get used to you saying something sexual to me. I hope you know that.”

“You better, Mr. Gillespie,” you tell him. “I’m not the innocent girl that you met a year and a half ago.”

He laughs and says, “Trust me. I know you’re not the innocent girl that I met last year. You’ve proven that several times at this point.”

With a smile on your face, you take Charlie’s hand in yours before grabbing your drink and walking back to the table with your friends. When you get back to the table, you scoot closer to Charlie and rest your head on his shoulder. Owen looks over and says, “Woah, being affectionate in public. This isn’t the best idea.”

You say, “It’s okay, Owen. Everything is okay.”

Owen looks confused as you look up at Charlie. Charlie looks at his best friend and says, “I kissed her. At the the bar when I went to check on her. Cameras saw so that’s going to be a huge thing in the morning.”

Jeremy says, “Well, congratulations on making your relationship public, I guess.”

The table laughs. Owen looks at you, Charlie, Jeremy, and Carolynn before he says, “I need a relationship. I feel so single right now.”

Charlie says, “You’d actually have to talk to people to get a girlfriend, Owen.”

“Haha,” Owen says, sticking his tongue out at Charlie. You laugh.

***

At nine, Madi, Charlie, Owen, and Jeremy all leave to get ready. They decided on Stand Tall for the number they’re going to perform. It’s almost 9:30 when Kenny gets on the mic on stage. “Hello, everyone,” he says. “Today, Netflix released season two of Julie and the Phantoms. To celebrate, I offered our band the chance to perform a song of their choice. So, let’s all welcome Madison Reyes, Charlie Gillespie, Jeremy Shada, and Owen Patrick Joyner to the stage for their performance of whatever song they chose.”

The crowd cheers as everyone walks onto the stage, taking their place. You and Carolynn get a front row seat while you both watch your guys perform. You notice Charlie took off his jacket and his tie. He also cut off the sleeves, but that doesn’t surprise you. The top few buttons of his white button-up are unbuttoned, showing off his chest a bit.

Mads begins to play the first few keys to the song.

Don't blink No, I don't want to miss it One thing, and it’s back to the beginning Cause everything is rushing in fast Keep going on, never look back

You smile and watch Madi sing. She’s insanely talented and you’re so glad that the world was able to hear her voice.

The guys nod their heads to the beat while they wait for their signal to begin playing. Once they get their cues, they begin to play one by one.

Right now, I'm loving every minute Hands down, can't let myself forgеt it, no Cause everything is rushing in fast Keep holding on, nеver look back

Charlie plays like he’s flickering on and off stage like he does on the show. You smile and admire your boyfriend. You know how talented he is, especially those fingers of his, but he never ceases to amaze you how talented he is.

And it’s one, two, three, four times That I'll try for one more night Light a fire in my eyes I'm going out of my mind

You smile wide when Charlie sings his line at the end of the pre-chorus. Then he begins to sing his part of the song and you dance with Carolynn. The crowd sings and dances behind you two.

The four of them finish the song and smile. The crowd cheers and you smile, looking at Charlie. He has the biggest smile on his face, which is covered in a layer of sweat. His hair is damp with sweat too. Charlie bows with his closest friends before putting his guitar on the stand. He jumps off the stage and comes over to you.

“I told you that you’d kill it,” you tell him when he gets to you.

Charlie laughs and says, “Oh, hush.” He pulls you into a soft kiss. You smile and kiss him back, making your relationship with him completely public. The people around you cheer a bit as Charlie pulls away.

You look up at him and say, “You’re going to have so much fun being able to hugs me and kiss me in public now, aren’t you?”

He smiles and stares down at you. Charlie says, “Maybe I’ll be having too much fun now.”

As you brush some of the hair away from Charlie’s eyes, you say, “Please try to keep the PDA to a minimum, Charlie. You do have a lot of younger fans. Save most of it for when we’re alone.”

“Like how we will be tonight?” Charlie asks, eyes hopeful.

You laugh and say, “Just like how we will be tonight.” Then an idea pops into your idea. “This dress is getting really hot. I might need to take it off soon.”

Charlie gets what you’re trying to say so he replies with, “Let’s go.”

He takes your hand and hops over the barricade. You smile as he leads you through the crowd of people. Charlie calls you an Uber so you can both go back to his place tonight.

[calpops]

seven months | c.h.

Seven months of pregnancy leave you and Calum with a world of love, happiness, trials and tribulations and brings an anticipated yet completely unexpected moment.

1.8k words

dates with cal masterlist

Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).

<< >>

The positive test result is confirmed and you and Calum feel like you’re floating. The first week of knowing that your family is growing comes with bliss. You can’t help but smile every time you see each other, Calum can’t keep his hands from settling around your waist or delicately resting on your stomach. Duke develops a newfound interest and need to be with you; his senses turning his protectiveness into overdrive. The first week blows by, little red slashes on the calendar keeping count of all the days it will take to greet the newest member of the family.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Calum says, standing in the kitchen where he cooks up dinner. You haven’t quite developed any crazy cravings yet but it doesn’t stop him from making anything you desire.

“Her?” You ask with an arched eyebrow and smirk.

“Just a guess,” he says with a shrug and smile then adds on, “the right one.”

“I don’t know, love, I think my money’s on a boy,” you reply and let your hand settle on your stomach. As much as Calum’s made it a habit you’ve done so tenfold. You’re not showing yet but the habit comes from comfort.

“You wanna make a bet?” Calum asks, stalling his cooking to eye you. You shift in the stool you’re sat on and question him with a look. “A girl and I win. A boy and you win.”

“What do you propose we win?” you question.

Calum lets out a breath, turns off the stove and moves the pan from the hot burner before rounding the counter to be by your side. He slides his hands around you, holds you, kisses your forehead and smiles. “Bragging rights. And first choice at names,” he proposes and piques your interest. He knows you have a list of names that have swirled through your mind since you got serious together. You have a feeling even if he wins he’ll still consider what you want and you know you’d do the same for him. It’s all in good fun.

“Alright, deal, but we won’t know for a while,” you remind him and seal the deal with a kiss.

More days pass and the complications of pregnancy start to kick in. Cravings and sickness, fatigue and changes plague you. Calum is there for you through it all. He offers comfort and support, takes as much time as he can to be with you, cater to your every whim and need. Though there are challenges both of you stay optimistic and anxious, nearly unable to wait for the day you get to hold the product of love in your arms. You often find yourself speaking of it all, making plans. You’ve yet to tell anyone but Calum’s parents and sister about the pregnancy, opting to keep it to yourselves until enough time has passed that risk margins slim and complications start to fade.

“We should probably tell the guys, at least,” Calum mumbles one night. You lay on your side and gaze at him under thin streams of moonlight coming in through the slats of the blinds.

“Yeah,” you agree, knowing they’re family and should know soon.

“I can tell them at the studio tomorrow,” Calum offers and you watch his eyes shoot up to the ceiling. “Unless you want to be there when they find out.”

You nod. “Oh I think I have to be. Luke did walk me down the aisle,” you remind with a slight giggle and light up when Calum laughs too.

“Stop by for lunch and we’ll tell them together?” Calum offers and you nod, making the plan and looking forward to the reactions to come.

The next day you show up to the studio where Calum greets you with lunch, a smile and a kiss to the cheek. He holds your hand up to where the rest of the band convenes with a shroud of take out boxes around them. You go in without a game plan in place to break the news but feel that might be best, you want telling them to come naturally. You’ve started to show just a touch but it’s easy enough to o disguise with Calum’s hoodie. None of the boys are the wiser or suspect anything when you walk in with Calum.

You get halfway through your meal, making small talk and trading banter, filling the guys in on marital life and the happiness you share when Ashton eyes your odd combo of food and makes a quip.

“I’d say it’s the pregnancy cravings but I’ve always liked this, actually,” you reply without thought and only realize what you’ve said when Ashton laughs but Michael and Calum stay silent and then Ashton falls into the quiet as well.

“Wait, what?” Ashton asks and stands as if the news is so striking he’s not sure what to do with himself. Neither you or Calum respond, the lack of game plan not readying you for the varying responses of shock. “Shut up, are you really pregnant or just trying to give me chest pain?”

Calum laughs and you blush around a giggle. Michael and Luke lean forward, rapt with interest at what answer might come from you two. You start by nodding but it’s not enough for Ashton to believe you and sit back down. He waits for words, waits for Calum to also confirm and when the chorus of confirmation and explanation falls from the two of you he breaks into a grin and finally joins Luke and Michael back on the sofa.

“I really didn’t think Calum would be the first,” Michael muses, hands folded together under his chin, you can see the happiness in his eyes and the unrelenting tilt of his lips.

“The first to have a kid?” Calum asks and throws his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer.

“The first to find love, get married, have a kid, all of it,” Michael clarifies with fondness in his tone. “I’m happy for you,” he adds on and flickers his eyes from Calum to you, making it known he means both of you.

Luke joins in on the sentiment and congratulations, pulls you into a hug and promises he’ll be there whenever you need him, also mentions that he’s already vying for the position of favorite uncle.

“Does anyone else know?” Luke asks after.

“Just my parents and Mali,” Calum answers. “We want to keep it as private as possible for as long as possible.”

You and Calum are no strangers to privacy in your relationship. You’d kept your entire relationship a secret from the public for over a year before an accidental slip of paparazzi outed you, hate swirled and Calum took a stand to tell the world he loves you. Since then you’ve gone back under the radar, preferring to keep to yourselves. Keeping your pregnancy quiet feels only natural. You know there will come a time when it can’t be hidden, but in the meantime you’re going to enjoy every last minute of privacy and solace that you can.

You slowly break the news to other close friends as the weeks go on. It’s over dinner that Calum broaches the subject of making a public announcement. You know it’s time, you’re showing and the probability of being spotted and found out increases day by day. You nod in agreement at his words, how carefully he’s thought it through and what steps he wants to take to do it. A simple instagram post, a simple caption and the comments turned off. You agree and watch over Calum’s shoulder while he scrolls through near endless photos of you, you and him, all of the baby items you’ve obtained over the five months of the pregnancy. He finally decides on a simple photo of his hands on your bump and captions it with your due date and a heart. He posts it so the world knows but you keep your world inside the walls of your home and the love between the two of you.

You spend the next couple of months in an excited bliss. All of your appointments and classes go well. You both decide to be surprised by the gender, still waiting on your bet, still biding time on choosing a name. Calum always says you’ll know when you finally meet her—sticking to his guns about your baby being a daughter. You’ve bought almost everything for the nursery but have yet to get them all put together. The boxes leave a reminder of excitement and fondness in you every time you pass by the door. Habits begin to form as you get ready for the baby to come. Calum sings to your bump, talks to you and the baby, cradles you and speaks of the future so often and vividly you can nearly see it. Everything builds hope in your heart.

***

Calum’s at the studio late one night, texting you, promising you he’s trying to get home as soon as he can when the first sign occurs. Immediately and instinctively you know. You fumble with your phone and dial Calum’s number. It rings only once before he answers and you cut off his greeting.

“It’s happening,” you breathe out.

“Sweetheart, you’re barely seven months, are you sure it’s not Braxton-Hicks?” Calum asks, automatically knowing what you mean, concern is in his tone but the drone of background noise over the phone cuts through.

You nod, tears in your eyes, knowing he can’t see you and then manage to get out a cracked ‘yes’. It suddenly feels like the world you’ve been living in is moving too fast. It’s happening too soon and instead of an anticipated and joyous occasion you’re bombarded by a time unexpected and only worries following. You know complications exist with premature birth and they rattle through your brain and instill fear into you when all you want to be feeling is happiness.

Calum doesn’t hesitate when he knows you’re certain. “Mali’s closer, she’ll bring you to the hospital and I’ll meet you, okay? Ash will call her, just breathe, it’s gonna be okay.”

You want to believe him, have always been able to put your faith into his words. But this is out of his control.

“I’m scared,” you confide, voice small and shaking with the two words.

“Stay on the phone with me. I’m right here,” he soothes. “It’s gonna be okay,” he repeats and now you wonder if it’s for you or to convince himself, knowing that realizations of the situation have caught up with him. Noting the tiniest hint of fear in his voice.

You hold onto his words, the sentiment, the sound of his voice as he tries calming you. He stays on the phone with you as Mali shows up, through the car rides that separate you and only hangs up when he sees you being wheeled into the check in desk. He strides for you, takes your hand in his and repeats words that have become a mantra.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

You try to believe him as your world spins on and you’re powerless to the future. You don’t let go of his hand or his hope.

<< >>

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[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine one-shot “Artistic Differences” (Rated NC17)

Summary: Kurt and Blaine have known each other all their lives. They've loved each other almost as long. But as Blaine uses his love for Kurt as inspiration for his music, Kurt has yet to reciprocate. And since painting is Kurt's entire world, Blaine is worried about what that might mean for the two of them. (2703 words)

Notes: I had been writing this for the @klaineadvent Drabble Challenge 2020 prompt 'opinion'. I finally finished it. Wee! XD

Read on AO3.

Baby, you're not alone...

'Cause you're here with me...

And nothing's ever gonna bring us down...

'Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you...

And you know it's true...

It don't matter what'll come to be...

Our love is all we need to make it through...

Blaine stops singing when he notices an echo haunting his lyrics, lingering on the high notes for longer than written. He listens with eyes closed, smiling at his keyboard. 

His boyfriend Kurt, humming behind the melody. 

Blaine has been ironing this song out for the past three hours now but Kurt hasn't complained once about the constant stopping and starting.

He never does. 

Blaine peeks over his shoulder as he continues to play with the harmonies and watches Kurt, focused on the canvas in front of him, swaying to the rhythm of the music, happily sandwiched between his two passions - art and music.

It's a mild and sunny Saturday - a whole day devoted to cleaning up commissions and tying loose ends on weekly projects before their one day off together. Blaine and Kurt share a studio space - normally unheard of for an artist and a musician, but they make it work. It helps that they've known one another for so long that being alone together is the same as being alone with themselves. That also means they get the inside scoop on what the other is working on long before the public does.

And what they're not working on, which has begun to bother Blaine.

Blaine adores everything his talented boyfriend comes up with. Even regarding his more controversial works, there isn't a thing Kurt has painted that Blaine finds objectionable. Kurt puts his heart and soul into every painting, no matter who it's for, and no matter the subject. A writer from Artforum once wrote: "Kurt Hummel goes beyond the veil to showcase not just the external, but the core of every subject - their drives and motivations. It pairs nicely with the transparency of his own soul, which shines through the gouache and the gesso to leave the viewer with a tangible piece."

And therein lies the root of Blaine's problem.

A glance at one of Kurt's canvasses and the world knows everything it needs to about what he loves.

But one subject in particular has gone wholly unrepresented.

“How come you've never painted a portrait of me?” Blaine asks.

"Hmm... what's that, love?" Kurt mutters, switching out brushes, then moving from a blob of Titanium White to a smear of Winsor Blue.

"How come you've never painted a portrait of me?" Blaine rises off his piano bench and relocates to the wooden folding chair behind Kurt's easel in the hopes of pulling his attention a bit. "You've been an artist for as long as I've known you, and I've known you your entire life. But not once have you ever painted a portrait of me."

“Why do I need to? I have you right here," Kurt says, pretending to bop the tip of Blaine's nose with his brush. "Besides, these aren’t personal." His gaze bounces between the three canvases set on easels in an arc in front of him. "They’re bought and paid for.”

"But what about your private stuff? You've shown me your sketchbooks and your digital art files. Unless you have some hidden folder marked 'secret boyfriend art' that I've yet to come across, there's not a single piece of me in any of your work."

Kurt doesn't steer his gaze away from the apple he's adding highlights to to acknowledge his pouty boyfriend, but the corner of his mouth hitches. "If you say so, dear."

"I know so," Blaine grumps, crossing his arms over his chest and dropping back in the chair so hard he nearly topples it over.

"That's your opinion."

"You're evading."

"Is it really so important to you?"

"Yes! It would be nice to be immortalized by my artist boyfriend!"

Kurt snickers. "Are you that much of a narcissist?"

"Your art is important to you! More than that - it's your life! You paint everything that you love! You've made dozens of paintings of Finn, your father, your mother, your Navigator... "

"My Navigator is my baby. It deserves love. I don't get to drive it much living in the city," Kurt defends. "Besides, those paintings I posted on Instagram landed me a huge contract with Lincoln, and that paid for our month-long tryst to Bali. You're welcome, by the way."

"I'm not saying I'm not grateful... " Blaine pauses, the smile on his face a souvenir from thirty straight days of overindulgence in sex and alcohol. "I think I more than proved that on that private beach? Under the moonlight?"

"Yeah, you did," Kurt growls, silently hoping that will be the end of this discussion.

"But... " Blaine picks up and Kurt's heart sinks.

No luck.

"... nowhere am I present in your work. Not that I've seen. Not even in the abstract. And that makes me think... " 

"Think what?" Kurt mutters, his playful attitude fading the longer this conversation drags on.

Blaine sighs, realizing how much like a spoiled toddler he sounds. But he's in too deep to stop now. "That you don't expect me to be around long."

Kurt's snicker turns into a full-blown chortle. "We've been together forever! You staked a claim on me in kindergarten! Are you suddenly going somewhere?"

"Can't you take this seriously?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's ridiculous!"

Blaine huffs. "Great. So my feelings are ridiculous."

"No, Blaine, your feelings are valid. This argument is ridiculous. Believe it or don't, you don't know everything about me. Or my work. What does it matter what I put on a canvas? I told you that I love you! That I would always love you! I tell you over and over and over! Those are my words! My truth! Listen to my truth!"

"B-but what if you change your mind?" Blaine grimaces when that toddler inside him begins throwing an all-out tantrum.

"Then I change my mind!" Kurt groans, slamming his free hand down on an open tube of Dandelion Green, sending a thick ribbon of paint a good four feet. "I'm allowed to change my mind! And so are you! But I don't see that happening!"

"Then why won't you marry me?"

Kurt pulls a face, probably without thinking about it. "Because I'm not very fond of marriage."

"Why not? Your parents had a great marriage! And your father has a wonderful second marriage!"

"But your parents don't have a very good marriage, do they? Nor your older brother, who's been divorced twice already! " Kurt argues, frustration causing him to forget himself and clean his stained hand on the untucked hem of his shirt instead of a rag. That should be a huge red-flag for Blaine to back down, yet he doesn't. Common sense? Sorry, don't know her. "And the national average isn't that great, either. Doesn't it mean more that I choose to stay with you instead of feeling obligated to?"

Blaine doesn't have an answer for that, even though the answer is obviously yes. Of course, it does. And in high school, that would have been enough to shut Blaine up. But admitting to that feels too much like conceding, and this one time, this is an argument he wants to win. "Did you hear that song I've been working on?" Blaine asks, switching gears so quickly, it puts Kurt on edge.

"Yes," Kurt replies, his voice becoming tight quickly. "It's lovely."

"I wrote it for you."

"Thank you. It sounds wonderful. Another huge hit in the making."

"It's the 15th song I've written in your honor."

"Wow," Kurt says dryly, predicting the direction this is heading. "That many?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's an incredibly kind and loving gesture, one that I didn't know required reciprocation."

"It doesn't require reciprocation. But it would be nice."

Kurt rolls his eyes at Blaine's agenda. Tit for tat. Is that how this is supposed to work? "From what I remember, those songs made you a pretty penny."

"So?"

"So, it's not like you wrote them for me and kept them between us. Most of those songs are chart-toppers."

"But I didn't release them for the money! I wouldn't care if they didn't make me a dime! I put them on the albums because I'm not afraid to let the world know how I feel about you!"

Kurt's brow furrows as he fights through a blooming headache to decode that declaration. Once he gets it, he gasps. "I'm not hiding you away if that's what you're implying! You go with me EVERYWHERE! Every gallery opening, every art show! There have been articles written about our relationship! You're no dirty little secret!"

"I never said I was."

"No?" Kurt chuckles bitterly. "You're sure implying it a great deal!"

"That's not what this is about."

"You're right. It's not. Blaine!" Kurt tosses his brush into a mug of water and starts pacing the floor. "I am a gay artist walking a very fine line."

"I'm a gay artist, too!" Blaine says, offended.

"But you're a musician. And a songwriter. Musicians are supposed to use love as their muse. Writing about your relationship is expected... unless you're Taylor Swift, apparently."

"Yeah. What's up with that?"

Kurt shrugs. "I don't know. The point is that the second I make a piece of art about our relationship in any way, shape, or form, I'm afraid that's all it will be about, no matter what I intend."

"Isn't art supposed to be subject to interpretation?"

"That's just it! If I hint that my art has anything to do with you, that will become the only interpretation. Because too many straight people see the homosexual experience as solely about the right to fuck who we want to fuck and nothing else. I make a portrait about you or dedicated to you, and after that... " Kurt's eyes leave Blaine's face, scanning the room and his canvasses all around for help making his argument. He finds a painting of a forest they hiked through in Bali and stops there "... a tree that I paint will no longer be just a tree. It will become a symbol. In a forest of evergreens, if one needle is slightly browner than the rest because the paint oxidizes weirdly or whatever, then it'll be about you and me on the skids and nothing else. And I don't want that to happen."

Blaine turns in his chair to find the painting Kurt is staring at. On the surface, it's trees, dirt, and sky, but underneath, it's much more than that. That painting of their beloved paradise is perfection - so much so that he can feel the sun on his face, the breeze kissing his cheek, smell the sunscreen on his skin. "I understand what you're saying, but... "

"But?" Kurt grinds out between his teeth. This is the frustrating thing about arguing with Blaine. Even when he says he sees Kurt's point of view, he doesn't seem to really.

And when he's not winning, he gets dismissive.

"... I think you're overthinking things a little."

"And you're not?"

"Another evade," Blaine says, pointing at him in a way reminiscent of his brother's only acting technique.

Kurt grabs the hair at his temple and pulls to keep from flinging the palette in his hand like a frisbee at Blaine's head. "Isn't it more important that you know how I feel about you? You inspire me every day! Your love, your support, your music - they feed my soul! But do I have to plaster it on a wall to make it real?"

"That's kind of an empty question because you don't! There are no paintings of me! Not even in our apartment! And I'm sorry, but I think that's very telling!"

Kurt nods, his lips pulled taut. "You're right, Blaine. Not one. And it is very telling." He drops his palette on his work table and circles the room, grabbing finished canvases and carrying them over. He positions them purposefully, placing some under UV lights he has mounted to runners on the ceiling. 

"What... what are you doing?" Blaine asks with worry, wondering if Kurt is about to do something hasty, something that will ruin his paintings, waste all those hours of work, jeopardize the money he has yet to collect for them. 

Kurt doesn't answer. 

He doesn't even look at him. 

He works silently, his shoulders rigid, his footsteps heavy as he collects paintings Blaine forgot about, paintings that had made Blaine bristle because they were of places they had been to together, things they had made a point to see only with each other, but not a one included him. Those Kurt flips upside down.

He swipes a squeeze bottle of clear liquid from his army of supplies. It could be water. It could be paint thinner. Blaine doesn't know, but he's not certain he wants to find out. He's about to leap off his seat to stop him, but Kurt switches off the overhead lights, turns on the UVs, and Blaine stops. He watches in horror as Kurt douses the flipped canvases in fluid, but the paint doesn't run. Whatever is in that bottle, it sticks, but only in certain areas, and before it dries completely, Kurt dusts the paintings with a fine powder, one that brings hidden images to life beneath the lights.

“Oh my God,” Blaine mutters, stepping back to get a better look.

Every painting, in one way or another, is of him. Of them. And not just recently. There are images of them from college, high school... middle school. There are profiles of Blaine in the negative space between flowers of one painting, and in the clouds of another. A fluorescent image of teenaged him playing guitar to a silhouette of Kurt sitting beside him. There are shadows of them dancing, singing, even a daring one of them making love up against a wall. 

And the flipped landscapes? Their vacation pictures, as it were? The glowing dust reveals portraits hiding in plain sight, painted upside down and invisible to the naked eye. All of these images, Kurt painted in ways where no one would detect them if they weren't looking for them. If they didn't know they were there.

And they are in every. single. one.

Now that he's seen this, it's safe to assume all of Kurt's works carry similar Easter eggs, even paintings long gone.

"Why... why didn't you tell me about this?" Blaine asks, too stuck on stupid to move, walk from painting to painting and examine them properly.

"Why did I need to? I love you. I've told you. What else did I need to prove?"

Blaine shakes his head slowly, ashamed of himself. What an imbecile he is! Kurt is absolutely right. He loves him! He didn't need to prove it! The hurt Blaine felt - that was on him. It wasn't Kurt's responsibility to fix it. There isn't a day that goes by where Kurt doesn't show his love to Blaine in one way or another. Blaine didn't need this. He really didn't.

And right now, he doesn't feel he deserves it.

On a side note, how wrapped up in his own crap has he been that here, in this space that they share, where proximity has forced Kurt to memorize every song Blaine has been writing for his latest album while he paints, that he never realized just how frickin' talented his boyfriend is!?

"Kurt... " Blaine finally finds the strength to take a step forward, drawn to that ghostly image of them making love. It's a simple shadow of the moment, but it evokes a powerful memory "... these are incredible. How did you... ?" Blaine expects an answer before he can finish. Kurt is rarely shy about discussing his work.

Though Blaine should use this opening to his advantage - apologize since those should have been the first words out of his mouth.

But he gets nothing.

"Kurt?" Blaine looks over his shoulder in search of his boyfriend, ready to make amends. 

But Kurt is gone.

[gallavictorious]

”You going out? I thought you weren't working tonight.”

Mickey looks up from his tie to see Ian leaning against the doorframe, in uniform and with his hair neatly slicked back.

”Nah, it isn't work. Well, not exactly,” he says, finishing the knot and taking a step back to admire the result in the mirror. He's getting pretty good at this. Lots of practice in the last few months, ever since he took the bodyguard gig officially on the road. Clients like it when he wears a tie. ”You know the chick I've been babysitting for the past few weeks, the one whose stalker I caught trying to climb in through the fucking window? She and her dad's taking me to some fancy place, uh... Piccolo something, to thank me. Since you're working the late shift, I thought – ”

Ian interrupts, straightening: ”Piccolo Sogno? Like, that really romantic place down in West Town? You telling me the girl who has a crush on you is taking you there?” He pauses, looking at Mickey with a cross between disbelief and bemusement. ”Are you going on a fucking date?”

Mickey stares at him. ”What the hell are you talking about?” he demands. Crush? Date? What?

---

The chick's name is Charlotte Eckerton.

He was supposed to call her Ms. Eckerton, she insisted he say Charlie, and what he actually went with was usually some classic television reference that she didn't get, or – when she's was being particularly annoying – ”hey, brat”. She was probably no worse than any other spoiled little North Side princess, but Mickey sure as hell didn't get why anyone, no matter how loony, would want to stalk her, because literally all she did was go to class, study, shop, and party with her equally irritating friends. Oh, and endlessly updating her Instagram stories with every last detail about her fascinating life, of course. He put a quick stop to that, because continually announcing your location to the public when a deranged psycho was stalking you was... well, let's face it, it was about as stupid as he expected from these people.

She threw a tantrum when he swapped her phone for one with restricted access to social media apps, and she tried to give him the slip at least twice a day for the first four days, going as far as paying some other goons to attack him while she made a run for it. She was not completely stupid, he had to give her that, and he was beginning to understand why her father had come to him rather than hire a more well-established firm. The girl was a complete nuisance, and occasionally quite clever about it. Clearly needed someone wise to all the tricks, and unafraid to rein her in and tell her in no uncertain terms when she was being an idiot.

Mr. Eckerton was loaded, having made his fortune doing some IT-shit or other, and for the kind of money he was offering, Mickey was prepared to put up with a quite a lot of hare-brained shenanigans, as well as hanging out at the Magnificent Mile afternoon after afternoon, and listening to the brat's endless babble about... hair? Make-up? Bands? Whatever. He didn't really pay attention; he'd have needed to be paid hell of a lot more than he was to do that.

After a week or so of thwarted escape attempts Charlotte had exchanged overt defiance for a more subtle approach, trying to throw him off his game by suddenly gifting him stuff, like a dark gray shirt ”that goes really well with your eyes”. He took the shirt, because it was pretty nice, as was the watch and the stupidly expensive hair-product she produced in the following days. He was a little insulted she thought he could be bought so easily, though; she'd have needed to double her father's money, at the very least – or gotten him a nice car. He had said as much to Ian, who had eyed the gifts with an unreadable expression on his face, and had failed to comment.

When bribery too proved a failed tactic she started asking a lot of personal question instead, fishing for weaknesses to exploit. Her strategy was pitifully obvious, however, and Mickey gave her nothing but monosyllabic responses. Finally, she resigned herself to being stuck with him for the time being, and mercifully stopped pestering him about letting her go to whatever concert or party was happening that night. She still dressed up and put on elaborate make-up every damned evening, though, even if it was just the two of them chilling at her place, but he supposed it was something for her to do. Fuck knew he could sympathize with the boredom of being locked up.  

So that was Charlotte, spoiled and stubborn and maybe a little bit clever underneath it all. Not the worst person he could imagine babysitting, not by a long shot, but not one he'd think back on either, now that the job was done. He probably wouldn't even have accepted her and her father's invitation to take him out for a meal, if it hadn't been for Ian's occasional insistence that he needed to be ”nicer to his clients” and ”cultivate professional contacts”. This only made his husband's reaction to the whole situation all the more annoying –

”It is not a date,” Mickey says flatly, irritation coloring his voice, because Ian is smiling at him in all too knowing way. ”I probably saved her fucking life, she wants to buy me dinner. That doesn't make this a – Listen, her fucking father is going to be there.”

”Yeah, sure he will.” Ian crosses his arms, still smirking like an asshole, but there's just a hint of an edge to the smile now. ”Does she even know you're gay?”

Mickey rolls his eyes. ”Of course she fucking knows, because I open every damned conversation with 'Hi, I'm Mickey and I love cocks' like a normal fucking faggot. Jesus. It hasn't come up. She knows I'm married.”

”Like that's gonna – ”

They're interrupted by the door to Liam's room opening, the boy stepping out to give them his very best judgemental look. ”Why are you yelling? I need to study.��

”Oh, it's nothing,” Ian says casually. ”Just Mickey having a date tonight. With a teenage girl.”

”She’s nineteen, and I am not – !”

Liam frowns. ”Is this like when he was fake-dating Byron to make you jealous? Are you going to go on a fake date too? With a girl?”  He pauses, frown deepening: ””Is there a Grindr for straight people?”

Ian's spared a reply as Lip comes up the stairs with Freddie in his arms. He pauses on the top step, brow furrowing as he takes in the scene: Mickey, dressed to the nines and with a scowl to match, Ian smiling with his arms crossed, and Liam wearing his trademark look, the one that says that everyone else is a bit of an idiot. ”What's going on here?”

”Mickey's going on a date with a woman.” Liam offers it readily, a true believer in the free dissemination of information. Probably something he picked up at private school.

Mickey gives a half-choked groan. ”It's not a – ! You know what, fuck you.” With one last glare and an extended middle finger, Mickey grabs his jacket and storms off.

Ian, Liam and Lip watch him go, nonplussed. Lip glances at Ian: ”Huh. Less than a year of marriage and you've already turned him off men.”

”Yeah, well. Have to admit I didn't see that one coming.”

---

The restaurant is fancy as hell, linen cloth and candlelight, one person to take his coat and another to show him to the table. Charlotte is already there, blonde hair pulled back in a strict ponytail, something expensive glittering around her neck and drawing attention to the generious helping of skin her lowcut black dress offers.

The table is set only for two. Mickey frowns as he takes his seat. ”Your father coming?”

”No.” The smile she gives him is very innocent. ”He got held up in a meeting, so he called to say he can't make it. He said to tell you sorry, and to thank you so much for your service.”

Listen to those alarm bells going off all at once... Mickey tries to mentally shake it off. It's nothing to worry about. Just Ian putting weird ideas into his head. ”Uh, yeah. Don't worry about it. Just doing my job.” He waves for the waiter to bring him a beer. He does need a drink, quite urgently.

Charlotte leans forward, looking up at him from under half-closed lids with a very intense expression on her perfectly moisturized face. ”You were so brave when Smithson attacked me. I don't know how I can ever thank you enough. You know, my father is paying for this meal, but if there was something else you wanted... ?”

And that's her grabbing the olive from her drink and very deliberately pushing it past her lips and that's... that's her foot, sans shoe, slowly sliding down his calf.

Oh. Fuck. This is a date. Inwardly groaning, Mickey rubs a tired hand over his face, before looking straight at Charlotte: ”You know I'm fucking gay, right? Like, married to a man?”  Jesus, Ian is never going to let him hear the end of this...

Charlotte reels back just a little, mouth falling slightly open. He's prepared for shock, disgust even – but instead a dreamy look appears on her face. ”Oh my god, that is sooo hot!”

What?

---

He feigns sleep when Ian returns home a quarter past midnight, but his husband isn't fooled. ”How was your date?” he murmurs as he slips in under the covers and wraps his arms around Mickey from behind.

”Shut the fuck up.”

A quiet laugh, a kiss pressed to his shoulder. ”I take it you're sticking with cocks for now then.”

And sure, there's a teasing edge to the words, and sure, he'll hear about this for-fucking-ever, but... Mickey turns around, facing Ian. ”I guess I am,” he agrees, reaching up to run his thumb over Ian's cheek.

Whatever mischief is there fades from Ian's eyes, from his voice: ”I'm glad,” he says simply, and pulls Mickey in for a kiss.

Yeah. So is he.

---

This one goes out to @starkcravingmad​  who suggested a teenage charge crushing on a clueless Mickey, in a reply to this post. I know you didn't ask me to write it, and I have no idea if this is even vaguely related to what you had in mind, but for better or worse you planted the seed, and here we are. Didn't intend for it to get this long, or this silly, but yeah.

[hiddles-evans-hallucinations]

How Did We Get Here? - 5

Summary: The pictures of (Y/N) and Chris keeps on getting out in the media for the public eyes. The fans are going crazy, but as they tried their best to hide it and keep their relationship to themselves, their feelings to flaunt each other is bigger.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Famous Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: AGE GAP 

Note: a sucker for a fluff and fanfics or imagine that makes me UWUUUUUU so imma push myself to write and smiling like an idiot the whole time for the last chapter!!! // Also using celebs paparazzi shoot’s pics bc it kinds of matches with the mood I’m going for. And for the last chapter I’m using dakota and jamie cause they’re really cute on and off set. HOPE YOU LIKE IT. 

*gifs and pics are not mine*

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4 

Chris and I had to fly separately to Italy for the premiere, I was there first as I was talking to Judd when I heard a loud scream from the fans. I look to my left and found Chris smiling (gif), escorted by two men in black suits. 

My face lights up when I see him, but apparently it looks like he already saw me first before I did. 

He looks so good. 

Chris waves to the screaming girls as he approaches me and swing me around. “Hi, handsome.” I whisper. 

He pulls away and take a look at me. I was wearing a black dress. Chris bites his lower lip as he checks me out. I pull out my tongue and scrunch my nose at him making him laugh. “So beautiful.” he said with a hand on his chest. 

“Don’t cry now.” I pat his shoulder making him laugh again. 

The fans were screaming as we talk to each to each other. “KISS!” one shouted and followed by another loud screaming from them. Chris and I laughed as we hug each other one more time. 

The premiere was like usual, we spend time sometimes together for a quick interview sometimes we do it alone. I spend most of the time talking to people, taking pictures with fr I was so tired and my feet hurts that when everything and everyone seems to forget about me and I’m glad, I ask Pammy to take me to the SUV in the parking lot to chill. 

The driver turn the AC on and leave me alone as I texted Chris. 

(Y/N): ‘I’m probably gonna go before you, my feet hurts so bad.’ 

As I lay my head back and put my phone on my stomach, just when I was about to shut my eyes, the door was open. “There you are.” Chris said as I smile tiredly at him. 

“I just texted you,” 

Chris pulls his phone out of his pocket. “You did, baby?” he checks his phone and nodded. “Oh yeah, you did. 

“How did you know I’m here?” 

“Pammy told me.” 

I nodded my head. “Right, she loves you that much, she’d spoil where I am hiding to you right away.” 

“Were you hiding from me?” 

I shook my head smiling goofily. “No.” 

He jumps into the seat next to me after calling the driver. 

I stay quiet  the whole ride, I didn’t even know where we’re going, we did make plans that we would stay together on tour since we didn’t have any other movies to shoot currently. Pammy told me that tomorrow or in 1.5-hous is Chris’ birthday, I have his presents in my suitcase just before I flew here. I had to double check to Wikipedia to make sure Pammy isn’t fucking with me. 

“Hey, did you booked the hotel already?” 

Chris turns to me, his eyes are tired, “Of course, booked it two-weeks ago.” I look at him surprised. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, I wanted to spend my birthday with you.” 

I raise my brow at him with a smirk. “Oh... so you’re telling me tomorrow’s your birthday?” Chris smiles, amused. He slides his arms around my waist shifting me closer to him, I shyly place my head on his shoulder as he puts another arm on my stomach and rest his chin on my head. 

“Do I get a special treatment for my birthday?”

I chuckle. 

“Special treatment? You wish.” I huff. 

When we arrived, there’s no paparazzi, Chris let himself out first, and as I was putting my heels back on, Chris opens the door for me. I smiled at him, puckering my lips as he leans forward to kiss me quick. 

He grabs my heels and carry it for me. I just can’t stop looking at him and think of how lucky I am to have him. Chris is hands down the most kind and caring person I have ever met in my life and now me being with him, I just feel more and more lucky every day. 

“I need to go to the bathroom first, give me the spare key.” 

I was thinking if Chris went up first I can ask for a cake for him upstairs. But, of course, “No, baby, I’ll wait for you.” I can’t help but smile.

I look around if I can have the front office guy look at me. As the guy, take a glance at me, I gesture him to follow me. Chris was looking at his phone, so for now, I’m safe to make a plan. 

“Can I help you Miss?” 

“Could you please send a slice of cake to our room at 11:58 on the clock?” 

He looks back to Chris then to me. “Right, what kind do you want?” 

“What do you have?” 

“We have the cheesecake, red velvet, classic chocolate-” 

“Classic chocolate it is.” I said to him with a smile. “Thank you. And I need one candle, and also please don’t knock, at 11:58 I’ll be right out.” 

He smiles back at me as I make my way to Chris whose eyes wanders around the interior design with its historical pictures on the wall. 

We walk into our room with him still carrying my heels. I didn’t let go of his hand until he has to open the door. I’ve never felt like this before and it’s weird, I never dated guys who were older than me until Chris, but with him, my heart race like I’ve never been before and I feel safe and I never felt like this dating guys my age. 

I look at my phone it’s 15-minutes until his birthday, Chris took off his jacket and say, “I’m gonna go shower.” I nodded my head. “I’ll do it in the morning, I’m too tired.” He smiles and kiss my head. 

Every time he kisses me, or even just a peck on my forehead, it sends electricity through my veins. 

I take off my dress, grabbing one of his white t-shirt and put it on as I remove my makeup while he was in the shower. I check my phone once again, 5-minutes. 

Chris walk out wearing the bathrobe and threw himself to be, opening his arms wide for me as I jump next to him making him chuckle. 

I keep on counting the minute. 

“I’m gonna get a drink, do you want some?” 

“That’d be great, thank you, baby.” I peck him on the lips and make my way out to the door. 

The guy from the front office stood there with a slice of chocolate cake with the candle in it. I specifically ask for one candle, ha, because of course, who likes it when your candle drizzles down to your cake? Nobody. 

He lit it up for me as I walk slowly to the bed and sing, “Happy birthday to you..” 

He looks at me with the cutest reaction (gif). 

“Happy birthday dear Chris... Happy birthday to you.” 

I stood there for a second, biting my lower lip nervously at him as he stood up. Kissing me passionately before looking at the cake and back to me. “Make a wish.” I said. 

He shuts his eyes for a minute and blow the candle. 

“Thank you, (Y/N)..” 

“The surprise isn’t over yet!” I said handing him the cake and went to my suitcase to get his present. 

Chris placed the cake onto the table near us and open the present and pout in response of how cute it is. 

A matching sweater for him and Dodger, his got Dodger’s face on it and Dogder’s got Chris’ face. 

“Oh man... this is the cutest thing ever...” 

I look at him excitedly, I knew he’d like it because if my puppy’s still alive and someone give me those sweaters for my birthday, I would probably cry. 

“Thank you, I love it.” 

I kiss him once more. 

. . . . 

I took a shower when Chris was still asleep, and as I was having breakfast in the balcony looking at the view of Venice, I open Instagram and uploaded a picture of us together on set.

‘Happy birthday America’s ass @chrisevans there wouldn’t be Nala if Benji don’t exist. You are the reason many people smile today, including mine.’  

I smiled at the picture, it was the first time we had our kiss on set but many more off set. I put my phone and eat my breakfast with my feet up on the balcony wearing bathrobe and a towel wrapped around my head. 

A solid ten-minutes later, my phone didn’t stop buzzing from the notifications. I remember I turn off my notifications for Instagram. “What is going on..” I look it up and there was people tagging me in a photo by Chris. 

‘IS THAT @(Y/N/L/N)?!?!?!?! OMGGGGGGG!!!!’

‘Tell me that’s her and I’ll die happily’ 

‘Omg they’re spending his brithday together i can’t do it.’ 

‘ITS HEEEERRR!!!’ 

It’s a picture of me, right now. 

‘Buongiorno, Venice.’ 

I look back and find him leaning against the door looking at me. I blushed. 

“Good morning.” 

“Good morning, birthday boy.” 

Chris walks to me and kiss my cheeks. 

“You’re so sneaky.” 

He laughed, “You look so good baby, I can’t just do it!” he jokes making me laugh. 

“Shall we go for a date today?” he ask. 

I nodded. 

After we went for a brunch, we were standing outside of the restaurant looking at the view. Chris has his hand wrapped around my waist as we talk about how we’re going to work “us” out when our schedules are busy. 

“Well, you’re more famous than me so, I can make the time for you.” 

He pfft’ed me. “No, I’m not.” 

“Oh yes. I mean, aren’t we supposed to be ready if things doesn’t work out?” 

He stays silence.

“But, it sucks if I have to meet other people or see you with someone else and I have to adapt to someone new, I don’t think I want that anymore.” 

I nodded my head, I feel the same way, I know I might be younger than him but exchanging one man to another is never my style. I’m not saying I’m ready to get married but, it’s nice to just have one person for as long as you also want it. 

Meeting people constantly sucks, and I feel too comfortable with Chris that I know for sure I never felt anything like this before. 

“You’re right.” I said. 

Chris just looks at me and say, “Gosh, I love you.” 

My eyes widens in shock. 

“W-what?”

Chris’ face turns blue, even green and yellow looking at my reaction. “I’m sorry was that too soon?” 

I bit my lower lip, I am so nervous. 

We just stood there in silence, looking at other ways. I can feel tension between us in this silence, but I know I feel the same way. 

“Chris?” 

He turns to me. 

“I love you too.” 

His face lights up, the biggest smile I’ve seen. 

“You do?” 

I nodded my head as he grabs me by shirt closer to him and kisses me passionately. Deep and passionate, and we stay like that for as long as I wish it to be. 

And he said, it was easy to love me, but little did he know that it was easier to love him and it’s hard not to. 

I want time to stop ticking just for us. 

Articles about (Y/N) and Chris: 

‘Chris Evans and co star (Y/N/L/N) shares a passionate kiss in Italy!’  - X

‘It’s official! (Y/N/L/N) finally taking it to public with Chris Evans!’ - X

‘(Y/N/L/N) wishes Chris Evans on Instagram. The reason she smiles today!’ - X

‘Chris Evans take (Y/N/L/N) on  a romantic stroll in Italy holding hands.’  - X

. . . . .

@patzammit​ @joannaliceevans-fanficblog​

[robinrunsfiction]

can you do a dallon weeks x fem!reader with the fake dating trope???? i love you so much!!!

Bruised

Pairing: Dallon Weeks x Female Reader Rating: General Requested By: Anon Word Count: ~3,700 Author’s Note: I don’t know why, but I really like writing Dallon when he’s up to some shenanigans (check out Do It All The Time for more!). Also the song recommendation for this one is Bruised by Jack’s Mannequin. Enjoy!

Your friend Dallon had called you up and asked you to meet him to discuss something very important. You arrived at the cafe and ordered a coffee while you waited for him to arrive, pondering what was so urgent and important. Not much later he walked in and you could definitely tell something up.

“Hey Dallon, how’s it going?” You greeted him warmly.

"(YN), I need your help,” he blurted out as soon as he sat down.

"With what?" You eyed him suspiciously. You had never seen him this worked up before.

"Remember me telling you about my cousin Eric?"

"The tech start up guy? The one who has always been a dick to you?"

"That's the one. He's getting married in Hawaii soon and at my family’s Christmas party he was giving me a hard time saying I wouldn't need a plus one and I lied and said I did, that I had a girlfriend and we were serious and-"

"Now you need me to be your fake girlfriend," you smirked.

"Exactly."

"Why even go to the wedding if you don't like him?"

"That's just not how it works in my family," he sighed, running his hands through his hair. 

You thought for a moment before speaking up. "I have an idea."

Dallon looked up. "Why do you have that devious look on your face?"

"What's the fiancee like? Bridezilla?" Dallon nodded. "Not surprised. My idea is that not only do we go, but we go big. My presence alone will probably irritate them because I'll be pulling attention away from them just because I'm someone new, but on top of that we're gonna be the most disgustingly in love couple on earth." 

Dallon's eyes went wide and he nodded. "Yea, annoying them just by existing."

"Exactly! Oh we can really have fun with this. How long do we have to plan?"

"It's next month."

"Ok, let's start now with some Instagram posts so it feels more legit," you replied, pulling out your phone.

"How are you so good at this?" Dallon laughed, clearly relieved.

You shrugged. "I dunno, I just don't like bullies, especially when they mess with my friends and I like coming up with good stories. Now slide over here so we can take a photo and get these hijinks started."

Dallon pulled his chair around to your side of the table and took your phone. He wrapped his other arm around your shoulder as you settled in close to him, looking up at him adoringly through your lashes as he took a couple photos.

"Perfect, I'll post these and you can repost them however you think they'll get the most attention."

"What if our friends ask what's going on?"

"Tell them what’s going on, or lie, whatever," you shrugged, not looking up from your phone. "Ok they're posted and I turned off commenting so no one can say anything publically." You looked up and saw Dallon was staring at you in awe. "What?"

"You're just so clever," he said shaking his head.

"Aww, see you already know your lines!"

~

After a month of instagram posts, that led to a lot of chatter both from his fans and family, you and Dallon were boarding your flight to Hawaii. You'd gone over the backstory of how you met and fell in love, but most importantly you had gotten comfortable being in each other's space more than usual. You were hanging out more often than you had been before, and when you were together you sat closer together than normal, or he’d find reasons to touch your back or arm. You found comfort in having Dallon's arm wrapped around you for the posed for the photos you were posting online, or when you subtly settled in against his side. 

"Ready darling?" He asked as the shuttle from the airport rolled up in front of the resort where everything would be taking place. You loved how easily the term of endearment seemed to roll off his tongue. 

"Let's knock 'em dead," you replied and took his hand as you strolled into the lobby.

After checking in, you made your way up to the room. You shouldn't have been surprised that there was just the king size bed, but when it was staring you in the face, it made your stomach flip.

"I can sleep on the couch," Dallon offered, seeming to read your mind.

"No, it's fine, the bed is huge, there's plenty of room for both of us. We can build a pillow wall if that would make you feel better," you laughed and Dallon shook his head.

"I just don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"I'm fine, trust me,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you walked further into the room. “Look at this!” You said holding up a binder that was on the desk. “She made itineraries for every day and marked who is expected at each event! This is excessive."  

Dallon just hummed in response as he paced around the room.

"Luckily it looks like everything is optional for us except for the ceremony and reception so we can do whatever we want the rest of our time. Personally I’d like to spend hours next to the pool."

"Yea, sure" Dallon agreed distractedly.

"What's on your mind Dallon?" You asked, snapping him to attention. 

"I was thinking maybe we should kiss, so it doesn't seem awkward if we have to in front of anyone?"

You almost choked on air. "Oh, yea sure, why didn't I think of that?" You laughed nervously. Except you had thought of kissing him, over and over, but you couldn't think of a reasonable reason why you would need to kiss him until he suggested it.

You sat down at the foot of the bed and Dallon sat down next to you, his knees bumping against yours. You turned to look up at him, and you wondered if he could tell you were nervous as hell. His eyes flicked from yours, down to your lips, then back to meeting your eyes. You held your breath as he reached up and ran his fingertips over your cheek. You didn't mean to lean into the touch, but it happened involuntarily. Then he was leaning in and you met him halfway. 

His lips were soft and you were amazed at how good of a kisser he really was. Not that you had any reason to think he wouldn't be, but it was still noteworthy. His hand traveled from your cheek, down to the side of your neck, then into your hair as you found yourself clutching to the sleeve of his shirt, like if you let go the whole moment would evaporate.

"Wow," you murmured once you finally came up for air. 

Dallon cleared his throat self consciously. "Yea, I think we got it."

You nodded. You wanted to argue and say that you wanted to practice some more, but you didn't want to be that obvious. "Yea, no, that was great." Dallon's eyebrows shot up. "I mean, you know what I mean," you laughed awkwardly. "So how about checking out the pool?"

~

The next morning you woke up before Dallon. You had each stayed to your sides, but you noticed the way his arm was reaching toward your side of the bed. You chalked it up to just being how he sleeps, although it seemed a little out of the ordinary.

Eventually Dallon woke up and after getting ready for the day, you both went down to the hotel brunch buffet.

“How is every single person I share DNA with in this room?” Dallon groaned as you walked in, and you stifled a giggle. 

After getting your food, you found two open seats at a table with his parents and a couple of his aunts, but it also was right next to his cousin Eric and fiancee Sophia. He introduced you to the family members and you readied yourself for the line of questioning that would surely be coming your way.

"So how did you two meet?" One of Dallon's aunts asked as soon as there was a lull in conversation.

Dallon sat up straighter in his chair next to yours. "We've been friends for a long time, but one day it dawned on me how selfless and clever and beautiful (YN) is. I had to risk everything to be with her, and somehow I must be the luckiest guy in the world because she agreed to go out with me and we’ve been together ever since.”

Dallon's family aww'ed at the story, but you were stunned. You had agreed that the story was you were friends and you realized you like each other and the rest is history, simple and to the point, but this felt much more personal. Dallon glanced over at you with a smile and you placed your hand on his cheek before leaning in and kissing him. After all, that was what you had practiced for, wasn't it?

"Looks like we'll be having another wedding before we know it," you heard someone say as you pulled back from the kiss. 

"But hey, let's remember who we're here for, right? Me and Sophia!" Eric said loudly from the next table. You and Dallon shared a knowing smile before you finally got to eating.

~

The next day was the day before the wedding. You had gotten up and were sitting on the balcony overlooking the ocean drinking your morning coffee when Dallon poked his head out.

"Hey, I'm gonna run out for a bit, ok?"

"Sure," you shrugged, content to just enjoy the beautiful weather. You were having such a lovely time with Dallon. The day before, you both went out for a little sightseeing, but most places were so crowded you both decided to head back to the resort and settle in at the pool. Sitting in lounge chairs next to each other, talking and people watching, was pretty similar to how you hung out usually, so you easily forgot your relationship was supposed to be something more than just friendship because you were having so much fun. But nothing would change the fact that you really did want to be Dallon’s girlfriend, so you were trying to soak up every moment of this experience.

"Hey (YN), you here?" You heard Dallon call from inside a while later.

"Right where you left me," you replied, getting up and stretching before wandering back into the room. You had to stop yourself from walking right up to him and kissing him like you would if he really was your boyfriend. “Where’d you go?”

"Gift shop. So I've got a surprise planned for tonight. You'll know it when it happens, just go along with it," Dallon smiled mischievously. 

"Can't wait!" You laughed.

You spent the rest of the day much the same way you spent the day before. You were convinced that despite the awkwardness with Dallon this was still the most relaxing and refreshing vacation you'd ever been on.

"What time is the rehearsal dinner?" Dallon after you got back up to the room.

"Started 10 minutes ago," you replied after glancing at the itinerary. 

"Perfect, wanna go for a walk on the beach?"

"Oh, sure, sounds nice," you agreed, although you were a little confused since you had just come in from being outside all afternoon.

As you walked along, your hand brushed against Dallon's a couple times before he took it in his. But you soon realized that the reason he did was because you were walking by the restaurant where the rehearsal dinner was taking place, with the bridal party at a table overlooking the beach. You glanced up at Dallon, who still had that mischievous look on his face.

When you were squarely in front of the restaurant, Dallon stopped. "Hang on."

"Why?" You asked looking up at him, and realized his expression had changed.

He came around to stand in front of you. "(YN), you're amazing in every single way, and I don't think you even know it. You're so fun and smart and honestly the most beautiful woman inside and out," and suddenly he was getting down on one knee, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a gold band with flowers engraved in it. The calm, logical voice in the back of your head was reminding you that this was the surprise he mentioned earlier, but your heart was still hammering. "(YN) I wasn't planning to do this here, but I love you so much. Will you marry me?"

Your head was spinning, why did this feel so real? Why couldn't it be real? Why would it never be real? You tried not to let those thoughts cloud your mind and remembered what you were supposed to be doing and nodded your head enthusiastically. "Yes! Yes I will!"

Dallon stood, slipping the ring on your finger before scooping you up in a big hug. When he placed you back on the soft sand he leaned in and kissed you more emotion than either of your previous kisses. Meanwhile the restaurant behind you had erupted in cheers and both of you were smiling into the kiss.

"This is going so much better than I thought," Dallon whispered excitedly when he pulled back.

"I know, this was genius," you grinned, before you leaned in and kissed him again. For effect, you reminded yourself.

~

Word of your “engagement” spread quickly just as you suspected it would. There were also a few strongly worded text messages forwarded from Eric about Dallon trying to upstage his big day and consequences if it were to happen again. You both decided to play it cool at the wedding, but you weren't going to turn away any attention. And attention is certainly what you got, from both sides wanting to hear all about Dallon's romantic sunset proposal on the beach.

The wedding ceremony was fine, nothing out of the ordinary, but Sophia wouldn’t say “for poorer” vows when the officiant said the line about “for richer or poorer”. Some people chuckled, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. That’s not what love was about. Love was about being with someone through thick and thin, good times and bad. About dropping everything to pretend to be their significant other to avoid embarrassment in front of their family. 

At the reception, you had gone to the bar to get another drink when suddenly you found yourself cornered by Sophia and all 15 pounds of crinoline and tulle of her princess dress.

“Hi (YN) right? Looks like we’re sorta gonna be related soon,” she gushed, but there was venom in her tone.

“Guess so,” you shrugged.

“Well since your little stunt is putting a bit of a damper on my week, I’m gonna need you to tell me and Eric when you set a date, because we were thinking it would be so cute if we can announce that we’re expecting at your rehearsal. Wouldn’t that be a fun little tradition?”

“Yes,” you agreed heartily. “You will be the very first call we make, it’s only fair!”

“Great, thanks sweetie,” she smiled before making her way to her next guest.

“Hope you don’t mind waiting,” you muttered under your breath before making your way back to the table where Dallon was waiting. When you told Dallon what you had agreed to he burst out laughing as well.

“You’re a genius, I love,” he paused. “I love it, so clever.”

After the dinner, there were plenty of toasts and speeches made but you weren't really paying attention to them. Dallon had put his arm around your shoulders and you had rested your head against his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you couldn’t help but sigh contentedly.

He looked down at you. "How are you doing?"

"Good, but getting sleepy," you replied, stifling a yawn.

"Wanna blow off the rest of the party?"

"Do you think it would piss them off?"

Dallon shrugged. "50/50 shot at this point."

You stifled your laugh as Dallon told his parents that you were slipping out. He took your hand and you snuck off to the elevator. But when you got on the elevator, Dallon didn't drop your hand, in fact he pulled you to stand closer to him. When you got to the room, he still didn’t drop your hand until you were inside.

You slipped into the bathroom and got ready for bed. When you climbed in, Dallon was already under the covers, facing your side of the bed. "I just wanted to let you know that I've had a lot of fun here with you," he said.

"Me too. This whole trip has been kind of a dream." The words came out before you really realized the implications, but Dallon just nodded sleepily.

"Night (YN)," Dallon said softly.

"Night," you replied as you let your eyes slip shut.

~

The next morning when you opened your eyes, you were confused for a moment, but as the cloud of sleep cleared from your mind, you realized your pillow felt different because your head was resting on Dallon’s chest and his arm was around your waist. Somehow in the night you had found your way to him. 

Tears started to sting at your eyes as you wanted so badly to lean up and kiss him, to brush the hair out of his face, to hold on to him for hours, but the cruel reality of the situation spoiled everything. Instead you just tried to remember how this moment felt; the way his heartbeat felt, the way he breathed softly, and as he started to wake up, the way his arm wrapped more snuggly around you, pulling you that much closer. You glanced up and he gave you a sleepy smile, but you slipped out from under his arm with a mumbled apology and hurried to the bathroom to get ready to leave.

Not much more was said as you checked out of the resort, and boarded your flight home. You had become acutely aware that your time as Dallon’s girlfriend, no, his fiancee, was over. A song from the past came to mind and you pulled up “Bruised” by Jack’s Mannequin.

Hours pass, and she still counts the minutes That I am not there I swear I didn't mean for it to feel like this Like every inch of me is bruised Bruised And don't fly fast Oh, pilot can you help me? Can you make this last? This plane is all I got So keep it steady now Cause every inch you see is bruised, yeah

You didn’t want to look over at Dallon, you didn’t want to see what you assumed would be a contented look on his face, satisfied that while vacation was over, his point had been proven to his cousin, and no one was any wiser that the whole thing was a sham.

When the plane landed, you collected your bags, but sadly it was then the moment you’d been dreading. “Thanks for everything,” you smiled wearily.

“No, thank you. This was so much more than hoped for,” he replied. 

You felt like there was something being left unsaid as an awkward silence hung between you. You knew what secrets you held, but you doubted very much that he felt the same way. “I guess I’ll see you around,” you said as you shifted your bag on your shoulder and he nodded.

“Well, I mean, yea, see ya,” he nodded. You leaned in and gave him a hug and tight hug before you left without looking back.

~

It had been two weeks since you got home and you hadn’t heard from Dallon once. You’d texted him at one point, but he didn’t respond and his social media was quiet as well. You didn’t know your heart could hurt so bad from something that was never real to begin with.

You were spending another quiet Saturday alone, moping if you were being honest with yourself, when there was a knock on your door.

"Dallon, what are you doing here? I haven't heard from you in weeks,” you gasped when you opened the door.

"I know and I'm sorry. (YN), I should have told you the truth sooner, but I had to admit it to myself first."

"The truth? What are you talking about?"

"All those things I said about you, being smart and clever and funny and beautiful, I really truly meant them,” he paused. “And when I said I love you, I meant that too."

You could have been knocked over with a feather. "What are you saying right now Dallon?" The words fell out of your mouth inarticulately.

"When I asked you to be my date, there was never anyone else I wanted to ask, because I thought this would be my only shot to be with you, even if it was fake. But I can't live with the guilt of not telling you the truth any longer. I understand if you never wanna see me again." And with that he was turning to go.

Your head was spinning before you realized he was already halfway to his car. "No, wait!" You called after him, running down the steps after him. "Dallon, I," you paused, unable to find the words, instead pulling out the chain you had around your neck. On it hung the ring he gave you on the beach that evening. "I kept it, because even though it wasn’t real, it gives me hope that maybe someday it might be. Because I love you too."

Dallon looked from the floral band and back to your face. With a couple of strides he was wrapping his arms around you, holding you against him as you buried your face against his neck.

"I was so worried you'd hate me," Dallon murmured.

You shook your head as you pulled back and looked up at him. "I could never," you replied before kissing him more deeply than you ever had before. Your hands ran through his hair as he held you tight.

“This is gonna be kinda hard to explain to your family though,” you laughed when you finally pulled back.

“Let them think what they want. All I care about is you,” Dallon replied before leaning in to kiss you again.

[canonicallysoulmates]

My thoughts/views/opinions about Clif’s insta post....

Important Disclaimer: The following is just my opinion regarding Clif’s instagram post. I don’t speak in representation of anybody but myself. I don’t speak for my fellow j2 fans, and I don’t speak for my fellow tinhats. This is just my POV regarding this situation. 

Warning in advance, I am going to do my best to keep this post cohesive and coherent but my brain is jumping from point to point so if I come off as scatter brained in some parts I apologize. 

Before I get into this post, some of you might be wondering why I am dressing this in the first place when Clif’s post didn’t make mention of j2′s sexuality or of tinhats, it is because I am openly a tinhat and I am vocal one at that, and this is not my first rodeo I know even though he didn’t mention tinhats directly and he brought up things that are discussed by both tinhats and non tinhats alike I know, and I’ve already seen it, that we tinhats are gonna get the brunt of it from the het stans.  

For those of you that don’t know what this post is about, earlier today (12.2.19) j2′s bodyguard Clif made an instagram post regarding j2 and their families and some theories/speculation that there have been regarding j2 and their families, I’m not going to link to the post, or share the post, or even quote the post - even though I will address contents of it - if you really want to know what the post said you can look it up yourself. 

Before I talk about Clif’s post let me address the elephant in the room: Jensen’s comment. Or I should say “Jensen” because I don’t believe it was actually him who left a comment on the post. “Jensen” said that those who theorize about him and Jared’s lives are bullies. Well, he didn’t say exactly that what he actually said was that those who create the “false narratives” that Clif mentioned in his post are bullies. 

I call bullshit. On both the statement and on Jensen being who commented. 

Speculating/theorizing and pointing out what you see regarding a public figures life in your own accounts where you don’t tag anybody does not make you a bully or a hater. That is an idiotic thing to say, if you go by that then speculating that j2 are totally 100% happy in their hetero marriages makes you a bully and a hater too, or is there an exception to hetero positive things because it sells the narrative that they want 🤔

I personally don’t believe Jensen is the one who posted that comment because to me it doesn’t sound like him, I think it was somebody else on his account.

And I find it very...interesting and fitting that “he” commented on this post when on insta his and D’s bearding has been turned to 1,000x, they have reached Shawn Mendes Camilla Cabello levels of extra, even if I thought he was straight I would still think there were problems in that marriage because of how over the top they are lately; it reminds me a bit of a celeb couple from here in PR, for months they been saying they’re fine, that they’re in love, they’ve been going on trips together for all the world looking like a happy couple and then...about 2weeks ago they announced they were getting divorced. 

Back on track, this whole thing is a mess and it’s stupid af, I don’t know what in the hell Clif was thinking when he made that post, I don’t know what he was trying to achieve; I don’t know why he found the need or thought it was a good idea to bring forth things that were being discussed in fandom on the DL and to insert himself into a narrative in which he plays no part, like not to be rude, he can say he’s family all he wants but he’s just a bodyguard and I feel like I should say an occasional one like don’t oversell your importance dude. And even if he was family, the things he brings up in his post are discussions concerning only Jensen, Jared, Genevieve and Danneel. 

And I find it frustrating af funny that he’s so up in arms about what fans speculate in their accounts and he says he considers the boys family but he tends to be silent when j2 are being dragged through the mud and receiving actual death threats. I guess protecting the happy family image is more important.

Jared and Jensen are not the only celebrities to have their lives theorized about, they’re not the only ones who have fans that point out jewelry items like wedding bands or potential house moves, this is something every celebrity has gone through, it even happens to youtubers and instagram influencers. So chill tf down.

My best guess as to why this whole mess happened, because this is a mess of a situation, is that there’s something going on behind the scenes and either they don’t want us to focus on it- in which case good job idiots now fans are speculating like crazy- or they do want us to focus on it and they figured adding fuel to the long burning fire was the best way to make us follow the smoke. 

When I say long burning fire I mean long burning fire, nothing that Clif brought up in his post is new, they’re all things that have been discussed in fandom by tinhats and non tinhats alike for years. 

J2′s living situation, the wedding bands, criticism of the wives, these are all things that have been discussed in this fandom for years and they’re relatively small topics, I imagine that maybe back in the day when j2 first got married these were discussed more often but now a days not a lot of fans, at least that I have seen, talk much about j2′s houses/apartments, or about the wedding bands and when these topics are brought up it’s usually for a day or two tops and I’m being generous like it’s not a massive topic of discussion. 

He brings up the lacking wedding ring and the selling of homes, the ring thing was barely discussed most of us were focused on bigger things, and let me tell you that home thing has been talked about so on the DL in this fandom that I have seen people that are active, way more active and in the know than I am in this fandom be confused af as to what he meant - it’s that apparently Jensen and D are gonna sell the house or something - I’ve barely seen people talk about the house thing and the talk I’ve seen has been facts it’s all about the property and if it appears listed and the like and yet he brings it up along with divorce/separation which has even me going 👀 because in the convos I’ve seen about this topic nobody has ever speculated about this meaning a divorce, I’m sure there’s people that have and I just haven’t seen it but still it’s like why bring this barely being talked about thing and do so while mentioning a separation/divorce like 🤦‍♀️ Now everybody knows about it and is going to be talking about because he brought it to attention. what an idiot. 

Small thing, I take issue with him saying that for some people their passion is to build dream homes and sell and that we have no clue what hard work that is because I’m sure there are people in this fandom who work in real state or who flip houses for a living and they do those things while also speculating/theorizing about j2. 

He talks about how one of the j’s gets criticized for not being home a lot, I will say I have seen these criticism go to both and as I have said in the past I don’t agree with this POV, but it’s a very small niche of fandom that makes comments like that like borderline you have to look for it;  and on the wives being criticized/judged (<- his word not mine) for managing their careers and home life at the same time: yeah no, Daneel and Genevieve are not criticized for managing their careers and home life they’re criticized because they like to act as if they do these things without any help. They have nannies, G has people that help her with her blog, D didn’t start the brewery up by herself and she doesn’t work it by herself and one of her most recent acting gig was on spn a role everyone knows she only got cause she’s married to Jensen. They like to pretend they’re wonder woman and super relatable when in reality they’re privileged, and hey there’s nothing wrong with being privileged enough to be able to afford childcare but there is something wrong with pretending you don’t have that advantage and taking credit for work you don’t do ie. acting like you’re maintaining a home and taking care of the kids all by yourself, and then turning around and acting like your life is a struggle. 

Unless there’s something going on behind the scenes I can’t think of a reason as to why he would bring this stuff up, if anything doing so is stupid because now fans that might not have known about any of these things will know about it and while there’s plenty of sheep who will clap their hands and say ‘those people are so horrible :(’ there are those who are going to get curious and look these things up and where do you think their search is going to land them?  They’re gonna land at the anti blogs, and the hat blogs because we’re the ones that tend to discuss these things. 

Honestly, if  they actually wanted fans to stop speculating they have failed in an impressive way, they achieved the opposite. 

I personally think there is something going on behind the scenes, I don’t know if it’s good or bad but I think something’s going on maybe it’s a divorce or a big project or even something related to spn like a movie but I feel like something is coming our way....

One last thing before I wrap this up, I said this in another post, and I said it on my twitter acc as well but I also wanted to put it here: Clif’s post changes nothing regarding my love and opinion of j2, my status as a tinhat, or the content of my blog. I still love j2 as much as I did before this mess, I’m still a tinhat, and I will continue making tinhat posts both here and on my twitter account. 

This is all I have to say about this situation, I think, these are definitely the main points I hope everything I said came across clearly as I said in the beginning of this post my brain is jumping from spot to spot so it probably came across as a little scatter brained and ramble-y. 

[vikingsarememes]

Vikings VS Instagram

here’s another Vikings VS something type of posts! how would Vikings Characters (Ragnarssons + a surprise bonus) handle an Instagram account? we already know they’d be insanely famous but, what would their persona be like? Feel free to request anything.

* don’t forget to click on the photos on Caption his/her Photos, enjoy yourselves;) 

Bjorn Ironside Ragnarsson

༄ Bjorn doesn’t just post pictures, Bjorn makes sure all of his pictures are taken by a professional photographer, more women would be interested in a man if his pictures were high quality.

༄ He wouldn’t follow anyone but his family (his mother, his father, his uncle, his four brothers Floki and Helga, Torvi) however the number can go up to one follower (whoever he’s dating/ marrying) at the time, otherwise he’d get caught easily.

༄ Would definitely go to a random Instagirl account and start a conversation, first he’d talk to her, show her his confident, fun side, and keep texting until she finally sends him nudes, he never sends nudes first, instead, he’d convince the girl that it was her idea to exchange nudes.

༄ Would post a lot of stories shirtless in bed or at the gym, he’d play the make them thirsty game so good.

༄ Captions of his photos: photo 1, Photo 2, Photo 3, Photo 4, photo 5, photo 6

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Ubbe Ragnarsson

༄  Ubbe would try to keep his account private, for family and friends strictly but since his parents are well known it’s impossible so instead, he goes public and he posts photos of him and his family, embracing the fame, he’d post pictures of Torvi and praise her whenever he can.

༄ He would only follow people that he knows personally, Ubbe likes to be updated on his friends’ and family’s lives and he would check the 503 stories and accounts, one by one if he has enough time.

༄ No one can send him a message unless Ubbe follows them, he doesn’t like to be spammed by strangers and Ubbe isn’t afraid to block someone if they said something he didn’t like or insulted someone he cares about, he reads all the comments and illuminates the hate.

༄ Ubbe always post stories of him and the kids, his stories screams dad vibes, if Asa does something funny, he’d be like “come on! show it to them please” he’d also post stories of him walking around the house following Torvi and throwing the most random compliments at her “yo Torvi! you smell like Grape!”

༄ Captions of his photos: photo 1, Photo 2, Photo 3, Photo 4, photo 5, photo 6

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Hvitserk ‘whiteshirt’ Ragnarsson

༄ Hvitserk is a fun-loving guy, so it’s no surprise that his posts would be funny, he would either talk about a funny memory or something that he thinks is so hilarious that it needs to be shared with the world.

༄ the 5030 accounts he’s following, they’re meme accounts, cooking accounts, DIY accounts, and some family and friends, he hates it when he refreshes his feed and nothing new shows up, so to avoid this problem, he’d follow the most random pages ever.

༄ Hvitserk’s Direct messages are always open, but to get interactions from him, your meme must be really funny, if he likes it, he’d double heart your message, if he loves it, you would get a laughing emoji but that’s about it, you can’t have a conversation with the man on Instagram.

༄ His Stories would literally be memes he felt like sharing with his followers and ridiculous photos of him, whether they were with weird filters or just his face doing a weird move.

༄ Captions of his photos: photo 1, Photo 2, Photo 3, Photo 4, photo 5, photo 6

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 Sigurd ‘Snake in the Eye’ Ragnarsson

༄ his posts are either really noisy, with terrible quality and awkward looking faces or really well taken, like by a professional who spent hours editing the light and the shadows, overall, his account is a mess but no one cares because he’s a famous artist.

༄ he would follow his family and friends, he’d follow fellow artists with the blue variation sign or without, he’d follow fan accounts because he wants them to feel seen and heard.

༄ He would try to answer as many direct messages and comments as possible, even if it was with a simple thumbs-up emoji, he’d thank each person who creates fan art in all forms and cover his music, he even has highlights dedicated for that, for every writer, designer, painter, singer, musician, parody, he highlights everything.

༄  His story would be mostly his fans’ creations, but when it’s not, he’d take them with him in a day of his life, he’d rant to them, tell them everything, they’ve become his family and they helped him through a lot of things, so in return, he feels like he owes it to them, to be honest about himself.

༄ Captions of his photos: photo 1, Photo 2, Photo 3, Photo 4, photo 5, photo 6

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Ivar ‘the Boneless’ Ragnarsson

༄ His posts would have fine quality, he hates it when they’re blurry or hard to see, he never admits it but he uses Picsart to enhance the quality and his favorite effect is Drama, but they are all random and none related, you can’t find two posts that alike, but almost all of them contain sarcasm. 

༄ He would only follow the four people he truly cares about, (they used to be five but then he had a divorce) his mother, his father, Floki and Helga, he doesn’t even follow his brothers, to him, it’s annoying that he has to see their faces in real life let along social media as well.

༄ Ivar wouldn’t answer Direct messages unless he mistakenly presses on one, no matter who it came from, one time, President Obama was challenged to get a reply from Ivar by King Harald Finehair, guess who got new Cars for half price thanks to the dudes’ lack of replies? 

༄ At first, he would post stories of the improvement of his medical condition to share awareness, but after he recovered, he rarely posts anything unless it was a picture of a cute pet or a rant, sometimes, if he’s feeling really good, he’d post a picture of himself.

༄ Captions of his photos: photo 1, Photo 2, Photo 3, Photo 4, photo 5, photo 6

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Guest of Honor: Lagartha 

༄  Lagartha’s posts would be random, either a throwback to a specific event or to share the fun time, but the quality depends on whether she was able to find a good picture or not, she doesn’t really care about filters or if the people next to her are seen, a memory is a memory.

༄ Like Ubbe, she’d follow people she knows in real life, but she’s not as strict as he is, she follows training accounts, she follows cooking accounts, charities, meme pages to send to Hvitserk, animal-related accounts, women’s movements accounts, news, farming, she likes to see everything and learn about everything.

༄ Lagartha would be a slow typer, she’s not so quick like Sigurd or ignoring the whole thing like Ivar, Lagartha would try to answer from ten to thirty messages a day to show appreciation to her followers.

༄ Her stories would be random and fun to watch, they are either pointless, like watching her sip her green Juice before heading out for training or very important like talking about her movement to empower women and help them out of abusive relationships.

༄ Captions of his photos: photo 1, Photo 2, Photo 3, Photo 4, photo 5, photo 6

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Tags; (let me know if you want to be tagged) @youbloodymadgenius @gearhead66 @lol-haha-joke​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​

[canarhys]

valdangelo headcanons

hey guys. so... i reached 500 followers last night. and i’m really happy that you fuckers can deal with my dumbass posts because jesus, i never thought i’d get this far.

so in return for the amount of souls i have stocked up, i have redone the valdangelo headcanons i did for 100 followers a long time ago.

let’s fucking go.

• the two of them are meant for each other simply for the fact that nico sleeps all the time and eats so much junk food he has cavities while leo hasn’t slept for an entire month and hasn’t eaten in three days.

• they don’t like grand, fancy dates and instead go for drives through the city at night and hang outs at a fast food joint. (“nico stop saying mcdonald’s we’ve been eating there for the past week i’m starting to hallucinate ronald mcdonald.”)

• they don’t show much affection in public. usually it’s just hand-holding (it’s basically their second nature) and cheek kisses but when alone they’re touch-starved and cuddle all the fucking time.

• they play video games together obviously. when they compete (say, mario kart), it’s a ruckus because they’re both equally good so the entire camp watches and places bets because it’s so intense. when they play together, it’s usually nico on his nintendo 3ds playing pokémon with leo resting his head on his shoulder, making jokes and occasional pointers.

• i’m all for the idea that they two of them could hold conversations without even talking. nico and leo share a look, nod, and somehow they know what the other is implying. it’s insane.

• they get matching tattoos not just because it’s a couple thing but because it’s fun. they decide to get star tattoos on their ankles.

• nico: lend me a hand.

• leo: throws his prosthetic arm to him

• nico: thanks.

• i just love the thought of them having such funny ass laughs. nico cackles and it almost resembles a wicked witch. leo wheezes like a balloon losing air. also nico slaps people whenever he laughs while leo is stuck in a position for a fucking hour.

• and i just imagine when one is laughing the other is silently watching them with an adoring smile. despite the fact that the one laughing looks so fucking stupid.

• when they laugh at the same time it sounds like a hospital delivery room, ngl.

• they argue all the time but it’s over stupid shit like which superhero wins or who can be the most edgy/annoying. it’s all playful banter but it goes on for hours on end and everyone is about to kick them out.

• they’re fucking dorks; they watch jojo’s bizarre adventure and binge stupid instagram videos and recreate tik toks that are somehow worse than the original.

• they can’t give each other flowers because nico always ends up with lifeless, drooping ones and leo somehow manages to set all of them on fire so they just pack snacks and lunches for each other.

• they have to coax each other into taking care of themselves because they’re self-destructive little shits. nico often drags leo to bed when he’s working on a project. leo cooks nico healthy foods and forces him to brush his teeth. when one of them is sick, the other is by their side all the time.

• they share earbuds a lot. they both really like the arctic monkeys, they’re basically their soul band and whenever one of them is listening to them, the other senses it and immediately grabs the bud out of the other’s ear.

• i like the thought of them trying to be like buzzfeed unsolved and recording videos of themselves strolling through haunted houses and searching for cryptids but it would be so... disastrous.

• nico, playing don’t mine at night on a stereo at goatman’s bridge: come out, bitch.

• goatman: i’m fucking begging you to stop.

• leo, recording: fucking wheezing

• or they would try to be like game grumps and record themselves playing retro games like donkey kong or sonic but it also yields some fucked up results.

• leo, playing sonic adventure dx with tears in his eyes: screaming at the tv and trying not to have a nervous breakdown because the game is so fucking bad his brain functions have gone haywire

• nico: laughing so hard he knocked over twelve vases on the table

• they call each other by their last names a lot. it used to be an insult when they were arguing a lot back then, but now they use it as fun little nicknames with mild malice (unless one of them fucked up).

• they also have some personal ones for each other! nico calls leo “firebug” and “bombshell” and leo calls nico “sunshine” and “angel.” (they totally call each other “amor” and “bébé” as well.)

• they have small picnic dates at the strawberry fields in camp since leo loves strawberries to death and nico likes seeing leo’s adorable face as he eats them. usually they eat those along with chocolate dip and some milkshakes.

• leo has tried to teach nico how to cook in the past but it resulted in the inflammation of the argo ii’s kitchen and buford sending nico angry “glares” due to leo having to scrub off all the excess smog off of him.

• leo buys nico a fuck ton of hawaiian shirts as a joke but nico had worn all of them in less than a month and rocked all of them. leo now has taken the duty of buying as many as he can because damn, if his boyfriend didn’t look so cute.

• the two of them wear each other’s clothes all the time. leo uses the excuse “i’m cold” in order to achieve nico’s jacket or sweater. nico has started using it as well and leo hands him his hoodie or mittens. it’s cute.

• also i love the idea of them either wearing complementary clothing or drastically different ones, with no in-between. one day leo is wearing a soft rainbow-striped shirt under some overalls while nico wears a floral striped hawaiian tee, the next nico is in all black and leo is wearing a neon green jumpsuit. everyone gets whiplash from it.

• i feel like after the giant war and during apollo’s mortal quest, they go with him to indiana to search for meg. and they find themselves at the waystation and after the entire commodus fiasco, the two of them decide to stay and live there. both of them are going to visit chb in the summer but they like the thought of having normal lives and being normal teenagers, plus jo and emmie basically adopted them into the family and all of the kids there love them (especially georgina).

• at camp, they usually hang out in bunker nine or the hades cabin since both of them don’t like crowds and get overwhelmed by them. also they talk about conspiracy theories all the fucking time.

• leo: what if... in a parallel universe... we were straight...?

• nico: holy shit.

• they’re such horror movie fanatics. leo’s favorite is texas chainsaw massacre and nico has a heart for alien. both of them have confirmed that killer clowns from outer space is the best horror movie of all time and have watched it exactly thirty-six times.

• they both had serious discussions of which horror tropes their friends are. they are still categorizing to this day.

• nico: piper would be a final girl, that’s clear. what about jason?

• leo: first one who dies. that fucker is literally dead and hanging in a hotel.

• i also think the two of them love horror/thriller shows. stranger things, tales from the crypt, ash vs. evil dead. especially ash vs. evil dead. leo literally dressed up as ash for halloween, chainsaw hand and everything. nico, in turn, dressed up as a deadite.

• speaking of halloween, it’s like the culmination of their entire beings. because they both a) like dressing up, b) like free food, c) love halloween decor and shit, and d) love seeing each other’s happy faces during the holiday.

• both of them are incredibly dedicated to it, wearing black and orange and hanging up the majority of the decorations around camp. they buy the candy, organize the activities, and take a roll of what campers are dressing as so if someone is worried that they’ll have the same costume as another person, they can check with them. percy says they should get married on halloween just because they’re that into it.

• both of them hyper-fixate a lot. leo gets so invested in a project that he forgets to eat or sleep or even acknowledge anyone else around him, so nico makes sure to not disturb him unless it’s time for lunch or bed. he wraps his arms around leo as he works and buried his face in the crook of his neck and leo always smiles.

• leo does the same for nico, as the guy is incredibly invested in nerdy things that he tries not to tell anyone lest they make fun of him. so leo lets his boyfriend infodump as they lay in bed together, stroking his dark wavy hair and watching nico’s mouth move and continue to describe a dnd campaign he’s been watching recently. leo has to use all his will to stop him and get him to brush his teeth.

• they’re not really much to make future plans as they’re pretty pessimistic about everything due to their pasts but one day they found themselves discussing about getting an apartment or even a house together. leo said he’ll probably open a garage if they become the next caretakers of the waystation or even get a house and ask annabeth to help with the design. nico joked that they could have a floral shop there too since they’re both bad with flowers. and suddenly the conversation shifted to them planning a round-trip across the world on festus and one of them mentioned “kids.” then the two realized what they were doing and stopped, albeit hesitantly.

• i love the idea of persephone being a total mom to them (i don’t care about canon, she loves hades children no matter that her husband cheated) and having garden parties with them down in the underworld. she started teaching them how to take care of flowers better — which was sort of relevant since nico brought up the flower shop at home thing — and soon their blossoms almost stopped wilting or catching on fire.

• persephone: hey, you guys want some pomegranate?

• leo: yeah s—

• nico: n o w e ‘ r e g o o d .

• persephone wasn’t trying to trap leo in the underworld but nico couldn’t take chances.

• leo’s pretty good with instruments because of tool proficiency and is a master at the drums and guitar. nico actually has a nice singing voice and recently got into guitar as well, so you bet your ass that they have jam sessions constantly.

• leo is the gay that can drive while nico should not be within a steering wheel in any circumstance, so leo usually drives them to their dates. that, or they enlist the help of nico’s zombie chauffeur to drive them there.

• both of them share this soft and tender expression with each other that they don’t express towards other people, not even their other friends. it’s sort of like a face saved for them, for their little world and it’s cute.

• nico is way more touchy than leo and likes to wrap his arms around leo’s waist a lot. he often peppers his face with kisses and shit and leo gets really shy about it. when this happens, he nuzzles his face into nico’s shoulder or chest to stop his boyfriend but nico is resilient.

• i just... love valdangelo being so soft towards each other. every single banter they have they do with heart eyes and they usually just cuddle in content silence because they’re not big on talk, communicating better by actions. when they kiss, it’s like a perfect mix because nico is cold while leo is warm. they often lay in bed, smiling as their limbs are tangled together. maybe they’ll start up another conversation or game file. but for now, they like the quiet.

[madlori]

Unveiled - Chapter 1

Unveiled, Chapter 1

by MadLori Word Count: 3300 Fandom: Men’s Hockey RPF Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin Rating: NC-17 (like, heed this, please) Tags: Arranged Marriage, Modern Royalty AU, Mpreg, Not Omegaverse, No Consent Issues, Veiled Sex, Weird Traditions, Don’t Think Too Hard, Handwavey Biology

Read this on AO3

[there will not usually be this many notes, it’s chapter 1]

Biology note: This is mpreg but NOT omegaverse. All genders have both reproductive systems, meaning anybody of any gender can get anyone else pregnant. Men and women exist, but gender presentation is a result of how things are arranged/presented. I'm not super into getting into a ton of details about this. Handwave, handwave.

Note about language: I made the conscious choice not to render anyone's dialogue in a particular accent or dialect, as I felt that in this setting it would be a distraction. We're gonna go with "everyone in the story is fluent in whatever language you'd like them to be speaking."

Note to my existing readers: This is my first story in this fandom. If you have followed me here from Sherlock or another fandom, please take note of the tags - this is unlike anything I've ever written before. My first foray into mpreg or RPF. If those things don't work for you, that's fine, then this fic isn't for you. No need to inform me.

Thank you to burning-up-a-sun and luckie_dee for excellent beta services, and to ljummen and right-of-the-curve for reading and reacting as I banged this out in record time.

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Zhenya had hoped to sleep in on his last morning as a bachelor, but his eyes flew open just past dawn and would not close again. 

His wedding day. The culmination of several years’ work -- the selection of his consort-to-be, the negotiations, the contracts, the preparations...all of which he’d had minimal part in, because one simply didn’t arrange their own marriage, let alone their own embargoed marriage.

He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, going over and over it in his mind. Ceremony, blessing, consummation, and then...life as usual? Regular people had celebrations after their weddings. They gathered together with their friends and families, ate and drank, danced and celebrated along with the person they’d just married. Lots of photos, smiling faces, Instagram posts and hashtags.

For embargoed spouses, such celebrations were pointless. It was hard to rejoice with your new life partner when you weren’t allowed to see or speak to them, or even to know their name.

All that he knew about the consort was that he was from New Scotland, was Zhenya’s age, and of noble blood. It had been tempting to at least Google him, but poking around an embargo like that was inappropriate, not to mention insulting to the significant sacrifice being made by his new consort. This man had agreed to a restrictive situation to become Zhenya’s husband and bear his child -- the least Zhenya could do was respect his decision. Besides, the consort’s entire online presence would have been digitally embargoed by the palace tech team, which was really meant to shield him from the rest of the world’s snooping, but also served to thwart tempted spouses.

  Zhenya’s parents had asked for quite a bit of input about what sort of person he hoped for as a life partner. They had already known that he preferred a male spouse, and had accepted his one additional condition for a match, but beyond that, he trusted them. He’d known since childhood that his marriage would be arranged and had accepted it, was even grateful for it. It was difficult to meet people when you were a Prince. Zhenya had dated his fair share of men, but he was never sure about their motives -- was his money a factor? his status? his fame? -- and his dates were often put off by the press attention, not to mention the trappings of royalty. He thought his chances of finding happiness with a spouse selected by his parents were possibly better, and certainly no worse. Besides, he didn’t really have it in him to rebel. Refusing to have an embargoed arrangement would be a serious break with tradition, and the very idea was just -- exhausting. 

Sasha, his boisterous, gap-toothed valet, banged into the room at 7:00 a.m. sharp; Zhenya groaned and pulled a pillow over his head. “None of that, now. We have to make you look royal, so God knows we need every last second.” Sasha grabbed the blankets and yanked them off. Zhenya yelped and curled into a tight comma on the bed. “Up, you lazy, posh twat.”

“Why did I make you my valet. Why,” Zhenya said, muffled into his pillow. Sasha had not come up through the ranks of the palace staff, as most valets did. He had been a teammate of Zhenya’s on their university hockey team, and some fit of insanity had led Zhenya to conclude that his total lack of finesse in matters of protocol and politics was appropriate for the job. 

“Because you knew I wouldn’t put up with your bullshit and you were right. You’re getting married today, so let’s try and fool all these rubes into thinking you’ve got class, eh?”

Zhenya slumped out of bed, only to be manhandled out of his pajamas by Sasha. “Hey!”

He snorted. “Like I’ve never seen your dick before. And a lot more people are going to be seeing it today, so get over it. Shower, now.”

Zhenya spent the morning being scrubbed, polished, trimmed, neatened, and perfumed to within an inch of his life. Breakfast was brought in, an unusually light meal. “Are they afraid I’m going to throw up?” he grumbled, eating his toast.

“Probably. Are you?”

“No.”

“You’re not nervous?”

“I’m a little anxious. Excited. What’s to be nervous about?”

“I mean…” Sasha made vague gestures all around him at everything.

Zhenya swallowed and sipped at his tea. “Have you heard...anything?”

“I’m gonna need you to be more specific.”

He rolled his eyes. “About my betrothed.”

“Even if I had, I wouldn’t be allowed to share it. If you want to know, you’ll have to hire a hacker to un-embargo his Instagram.” Zhenya just looked at him. Sasha sighed. “All I know is that he and his entourage arrived two nights ago.”

“‘Entourage?”

“His parents are with him, and he’s got his own guards. He’ll have the guards until he’s unveiled. You knew that, right?”

“I know.”

“Other than that they’re all keeping to their quarters. He’s not supposed to be seen until the wedding.”

“He’s not going to be seen after the wedding! Not that anybody knows what he looks like. He could be walking around the palace in a bathing suit eating peaches and nobody would know it was him.”

“The embargo is for your own good, and his. And the kingdom’s.”

“I get it.” And he did, really. If his consort hadn’t conceived within a year, he would be replaced, and that process would be a lot easier for everyone involved if he, and the citizens, hadn’t gotten attached to him. Hence, the embargo. At least, that’s what the clerics said. Endlessly. “I understand the principle. It’s just going to take some getting used to, being married to someone and having sex with him without seeing his face or talking to him.”

Sasha snorted. “C’mon, Zhenya. You’ve had more than your share of hookups.”

“So?”

“How many of their names can you remember, or even their faces? You’re telling me you had deep conversations with them?”

“That’s different. This man will be my husband.”

“I heard that the prince of Patagonia and his consort broke their embargo and fell in love. She didn’t get pregnant so she had to leave, they were both heartbroken, he almost abdicated his throne, it was a horrible mess, he wouldn’t sleep with the new consort and so she had to be replaced, the first consort was disgraced and went into hiding, nobody knows what happened to her and he’s a giant ball of depression.”

Zhenya blinked. “That’s terrible.”

“Honor your embargo, Zhenya.”

He sighed. “I intend to.”

Embargoed marriage ceremonies were small, private affairs. The unveiling was really the big public spectacle, when the kingdom could at last meet their prince’s husband. The wedding was more for the clerical blessing and the witnessed consummation, and a huge gathering for that was considered unseemly. Zhenya had been trained since childhood not to feel immodest for this occasion, but he was still glad that there would only be a few witnesses present.

He walked to the chapel in his custom-made marriage robes, simple but lush as was the current style. Standing outside the chamber were six of his consort’s guards. Their uniforms were pleasingly clean-lined, black and tailored with deep gold trim, and they snapped to attention as he approached, disciplined and in perfect formation. Zhenya nodded to them -- he imagined he’d be getting to know them soon enough -- and passed through.

A heavy drape hung in the center of the dais with a small hole cut in it for their hands to pass through. Zhenya took his place on the left, nodding to the head cleric. He heard rustling from the other side of the drape and a shadow fell upon it; his new consort had taken his place on the other side.

They did not speak during the ceremony, as their embargo forbade them from hearing one another’s voices. The cleric spoke to them; they acknowledged his words with nods of assent to his questions and directives. When he bade them do so, they joined hands through the hole in the drape. Zhenya noted that his betrothed’s hand was square and strong, and gripped his without hesitation, exhibiting no sign of a nervous tremor. A promising start. He shut his eyes and sent up a prayer to whatever deity might be handy...please, let me like him. Please, let him get pregnant quickly. Let him be smart. And if it’s not too much to ask, please, let him be...not hideous.

“You are joined,” the cleric concluded, simply. Two deacons appeared and removed the drape.

His consort was dressed in elegant marriage robes of his own, including a cape and a veil that hid him from view entirely save for his hands. The only new information Zhenya received with the removal of the drape was his consort’s height, about half a head shorter than Zhenya. He smiled at his new husband and they bowed to each other. Zhenya watched as his consort made a silent greeting to his parents, the Duke and Duchess of New Scotland, who Zhenya did not know at all. With over seventeen thousand peerage titles in the world, one couldn’t meet them all, or even a tiny fraction. The consort’s guards had materialized in the chapel and now surrounded their master and escorted him off the dais and off into the chamber where the next and final step would happen.

Zhenya turned to receive his own parents’ congratulations, and a back-slapping hug from Sasha, wildly overstepping his role as a valet as usual. Zhenya’s father rolled his eyes but didn’t chastise him; his parents loved Sasha as they loved Zhenya himself. More, he sometimes suspected. 

The cleric hovered at Zhenya’s elbow. “Your Royal Highness, you are awaited in the antechamber.” 

Sasha winked at him. “Good luck. Do it right the first time and this embargo can end quickly.”

“I don’t think it’s entirely up to me,” Zhenya said, but he hoped for the same. He couldn’t imagine waiting for months on end, walking on eggshells every day, everyone looking askance at him if it dragged on and wondering at his virility if he failed to impregnate his spouse. As if it would be for lack of trying. 

He followed the cleric into the antechamber. His consort would have gone on ahead to be prepared and arranged by his personal attendants, although Zhenya wasn’t quite sure what that meant, beyond the obvious. This situation was generally not intended to produce arousal in both parties, so he damn well hoped that his consort’s “preparation” involved vaginal lubrication of some kind, for both of their comfort. He’d find out soon enough, but first there was still all manner of ceremonial mumbo-jumbo to attend to.

Zhenya wasn’t particularly devout, a fact he kept mostly to himself. At minimum, a visible attention to custom was expected and valued by the citizens, and Zhenya had no wish to disappoint them, or more accurately, to give them cause to distrust him. He respected the beliefs of his parents (mostly his mother) and of the clerics, but he’d have dispensed with the whole rigmarole if he’d had his choice. But this was his duty, so he stood quietly and allowed the clerics to say their blessings over him and waft their burning herbs as his outer robes were removed.

Underneath his robes were his tunic and trousers, which had been made with a flap at the front (“easy access,” Sasha had joked). He wouldn’t undress further than this, at least not for this ceremonial consummation. He’d be expected to achieve a minimum objective today, the most that could be hoped for in these high-pressure and decidedly not private circumstances.

One of the sub-clerics stood at his side. “Your Royal Highness, will you require assistance readying yourself?” he asked, quietly. Sasha, lurking behind him, snorted.

“Assistance?” Zhenya said, puzzled...but then it hit him. He was being asked if he’d need help getting it up. It stood to reason that he might, with people watching and the Fate of the Kingdom Depending and blah blah blah. Anxiety was not typically the friend of erections. The sub-cleric was offering a helping hand, so to speak. Zhenya had heard stories. Supposedly there’d once been a groom nervous enough that the sub-cleric had to use his mouth on him before he could manage it.

Zhenya didn’t think he’d need quite that much assistance; indeed, he hoped he wouldn’t need any. “Let’s...proceed, and we’ll see,” he said. The sub-cleric nodded and went to the door into the main chamber.

It was dim inside, fragrant with burning herbs. Several clerics were lined up at the far side of the room, chanting quietly. Behind a screen stood half a dozen shadowy figures; witnesses, drawn from the nobility and the royal family. Zhenya didn’t know who was back there and he didn’t care to know. He would likely never know; it was considered rude to disclose one’s presence at such an occasion. Zhenya had himself been a witness at his cousin’s consummation five years ago. You really couldn’t see much at all, through the screen and the awkward angle.

At the moment, however, his attention was captivated by the bed in the center of the room, and his consort upon it. He was laid out on his stomach, covered in drapes even including his head -- Zhenya worried for a moment if he could breathe adequately under there. Two of his guards stood at the head of the bed, eyes fixed firmly forward. The drapes extended from over his consort’s head past his feet, and in the center was an oval-shaped cutout exposing what was, without question, the most fantastic backside Zhenya had ever seen in his life, and he’d seen his fair share.

No. He would not be needing assistance. In fact, he felt himself swelling at the sight of just this one part of his new consort’s body. It was odd, and unexpectedly titillating, to be presented with a more-or-less disembodied ass, even if he could see the shape of the rest of the man under the drape -- but, he supposed, that titillation shouldn’t really be unexpected; why else did glory holes exist? Not that he’d ever partaken of such things, in clubs, in his slightly-wilder youth, absolutely not. But this was his husband, not a late night quickie. It wouldn’t be like this all the time, he assured himself. This was just for the ceremonial bit. Future couplings would be much less...ritualized.

They were all looking at him, waiting for him to get to it, but there was a step to be taken first. He glanced at the cleric and nodded. The cleric hesitated, then moved to the head of the bed. This was Zhenya’s personal addition to the ceremonies, and the cleric had been reluctant to deviate from the traditional sequence of events, but Zhenya had insisted.

He had no interest in a spouse who’d been forced into marrying him, as he’d made sure his parents understood before they set out to find him one. “I do have one condition, and it is non-negotiable,” he’d said.

His father had looked surprised. “What is it, son?”

“I require absolute assurance that any consort of mine enters into marriage to me of their own free will, and not under duress.”

His parents had exchanged a glance. “That should not be difficult; marriage into our family is considered very desirable.”

“Be that as it may, I need you to promise me, Father..”

His father had nodded, and seemed even pleased by this directive. “You have my word, son.”

And now, the cleric spoke to the consort on Zhenya’s behalf. “Your Highness,” he said, using the man’s new title -- after the embargo was lifted, he would become His Royal Highness, the same honorific that Zhenya received. “Prince Evgeni wishes me to ask you for your consent before he joins with you.” Zhenya saw the consort’s head turn to the side. “He values your agreement to this consummation.”

The man hesitated. Zhenya saw the surprise in his shoulders. His head turned further,  seeming to look back over his shoulder at Zhenya, and he nodded.

The cleric straightened up. “Does this satisfy Your Royal Highness?” There was just a touch of “are you happy now?” impatience in the cleric’s voice which Zhenya chose to ignore.

Zhenya nodded. He removed his gloves and handed them to Sasha, who was being appropriately quiet and invisible for once in his life. He unbuttoned the flap on the front of his trousers; he was half-erect already and filling fast.

He knelt on the bed. He wasn’t supposed to make any unnecessary contact this first time, but he couldn’t help but run his hands briefly over his husband’s smooth, muscular rear. Just like that, he was fully hard and more than ready. He placed his knees within the drapery cutout on either side of the consort’s hips; the man shifted slightly, spreading his thighs a little bit to give him room. Zhenya reached back and tucked his cock down and against the man’s entrance, relieved to find that he was, indeed, slick. He pressed forward and entered him; Zhenya stifled a groan and felt a shudder pass over the man beneath him. He was tight and warm; Zhenya held still for a moment with his eyes closed and hips pressed against his consort’s impossibly plump ass. 

He braced on his hands and shut his eyes, making smooth, even thrusts. There’d be time later to investigate what kind of sex his husband enjoyed, but now was the time to be quick about it and get the job done. He tried to visualize success, as the clerics liked to say during their instruction, and picture his seed finding its target and blossoming in his consort’s womb. The minimum embargo time was three months; even if he conceived right now, early pregnancy was so delicate that it wasn’t considered official until the three--month mark. After carrying to three months, the consort was accepted into the family and unveiled, even if the child was subsequently lost.

Zhenya had often wondered about consorts who failed to conceive and were replaced. Who was to say that it was their fault? Both parties underwent pre-marriage medical testing to minimize this risk, but bodies were unpredictable. Of course it might not be the consort’s fault; the would-be sire could just as easily be the one whose biology failed them, but such a thing could not be admitted for a royal scion. He’d heard one tale, possibly apocryphal, of a prince whose consort hadn’t conceived -- unwilling to accept defeat, the prince had asked his consort to get him pregnant, which she had done, and their embargo was released.

The contemplation of such machinations was premature, he knew. He and his new consort had only just begun.

As keyed up as he was, it didn’t take long for him to finish. He thrust in deep and spilled, clenching his teeth against the desire to cry out. He felt his consort sigh and press back against him a little, a welcome signal of acknowledgment. Zhenya let his head droop for a moment, then straightened up and pulled out. Sasha was right there with a cloth for him to clean himself before he refastened his pants.

The cleric stepped forward and blessed the union, prayers for the success of the joining, yadda yadda. Zhenya barely paid attention. Sasha was replacing his robe on him, but all Zhenya could do was look at the draped form of his new husband, especially the one part of it that he could see, and hope that it wouldn’t be too long before he could see the rest of it.

He let Sasha lead him out of the chamber, glad that was over -- but in another, very real sense, it was just beginning. He was now a married man, with a responsibility to his consort, who was at something of a disadvantage in this situation. He hoped he could be a good, supportive husband to him, until at last the day came that he’d be allowed to see his face.

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